


Out of the Darkness

by lovesnarf (snarfette)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Discussion Of Murder, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Police, Prostitution, Violence, referenced physical child abuse (brief)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarfette/pseuds/lovesnarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life rarely goes according to plan. Bucky, who has been working as a prostitute for several years, is well-aware of that fact. But a totally unpredicted encounter with a detective might just steer Bucky’s life onto a course that he never could have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any character mentioned in this story. I am not making any money from the writing of this story. This is all make-believe. 
> 
> This story was originally written for another fandom, but I couldn't stop picturing Bucky and Steve in this universe so I have edited the original work to suit them (and added a few thousand extra words in the process!).

Bucky leant back against the wall and smoothed out his t-shirt. It had been a fairly quiet night so far; a few of his regulars had been by but, other than that, it was going slowly.

He looked down the street and watched as a car pulled up in front of a woman. After a brief exchange, the woman slipped into the passenger seat and the car disappeared from sight.

‘ _At least someone’s getting some business_ ,’ he thought to himself as he turned to look the other way.

In truth he was bored; he hated nights like this. Time always went quicker when he was busy; standing around like this was a waste of time, not only that but it sure as hell wasn’t going to pay the rent. The last thing Bucky wanted was to end up back on the streets.

Several years ago, he had run into a woman as he worked on the streets, who had initially come across as pretty guarded and abrupt, but had gradually warmed up to Bucky over the course of a few months and eventually offered him the second bedroom in her small, run-down apartment. Bucky had jumped at the opportunity and moved in, not particularly bothered what condition the place was in, just eternally grateful to be off the streets. Years later, he still lived in the same place and worked alongside his best friend and room-mate, Natasha.

Natasha had been gone with one of her regular johns for a long time, which was nothing unusual, and Bucky considered moving on from his current spot to try elsewhere. He blew out a long sigh before pushing away from the wall.

As he stepped forwards, a silver car turned onto the street and began slowly making its way towards where Bucky was standing. It wasn’t a car that Bucky recognised but that wasn’t a problem; he was open to any business right now.

The car slowed to a halt slightly further down the street and Bucky knew that it was show-time again. He began a steady, confident walk towards the car. Every move was deliberate. There was no room for hesitancy in this situation. He glanced at his reflection in a window as he passed the buildings, checking that he wasn’t too tousled from his previous encounters that evening. If this was a new ‘client’, it was particularly important to make a lasting impression; a new client always had the potential to become a regular customer. He was satisfied with his brief inspection of his appearance. His brown hair was styled up messily in his favourite way; it was remarkably neat considering there had been hands twisted in it not long before. He was wearing a white, short sleeved, v-neck t-shirt underneath his favourite dark blue jacket with the fur hood. Tight, dark-charcoal jeans wrapped around his legs and fitted perfectly to his ass. He was confident that he looked good: he was confident that he could satisfy whoever was waiting in the silver car.        

As Bucky approached the car, he saw that the window was already wound down. Bucky plastered his trademark, ‘you-know-you-want-to-screw-me’ face on. He laid his arm across the roof of the car and leant down to speak to the man inside, but before he could begin he stumbled over his words as he locked eyes with the stranger.

The man wasn’t what Bucky had been expecting. He was not the usual type of customer that Bucky was used to. He was well-built - toned and muscular; he had soft-looking blonde hair that was nicely styled, blue eyes, a square, chiselled jaw, and he must have been about the same age as Bucky. If Bucky was honest, the guy was gorgeous, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that. If he didn’t speak soon, the man would pass him by and take his business elsewhere.

The stranger looked at him expectantly and Bucky quickly recovered himself.

“Looking for something?” he asked with mock innocence.

The man nodded, “You look like just the sort of guy who can help me out.”

Bucky smiled confidently, then stood up straight, opened the passenger door and slid into the car. The whole time he was thinking to himself that his night had certainly picked up. This guy was not like his usual customers who were typically unattractive older men. Sure they usually treated him fairly well, or as well as he thought he deserved, but to get picked up by someone as good looking as this was unheard of. For a moment Bucky wondered why this man needed to come looking for hookers in the first place, but he didn’t allow himself to give it too much thought. It wasn’t for him to try to understand, or even care about, the reasons why men came to him. He needed money to survive, his customers paid him – it was simple.

The car pulled away from the curb as Bucky settled into the passenger seat and cast a sideways glance over his new client. He really was very attractive. His eyes never strayed towards his passenger as he drove in silence, so Bucky decided to break the ice. “So, do you know where we’re headed?”

The man’s eyes flicked towards him for a moment. “There’s a parking lot a little further along.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, he knew the place well. He had been there many times before. It was perfect for conducting the type of business he had to carry out; poorly lit and practically deserted at this time of night.

Within minutes they pulled into the lot and the stranger parked the car in the far corner. His hands remained tightly wrapped around the steering wheel as he glanced at Bucky. ‘ _Large hands_ ,’ Bucky noted as he looked at the man once more. Something about him didn’t seem right though; he looked apprehensive.

“Have you ever done this before?” Bucky asked. He was pretty sure that he knew the answer already, but was expecting to be told some cocky story.

The man turned to look at Bucky, “Actually, no.”

‘ _No, bullshit_ ,’ Bucky thought to himself, ‘ _That’s a first.’_

“Well it’s twenty bucks for a hand-job, fifty for a blow-job and for a hundred you can fuck me. Anything else is up for negotiation,” he smiled sweetly as he reeled off the list. “So what’ll it be?”

The guy’s hands were still holding onto the steering wheel as he swallowed thickly. Bucky wasn’t exactly the patient type and he didn’t have all night to sit here waiting for this man to make his mind up. He leant closer to the guy and smiled suggestively; then he whispered huskily, “How about I suck you off?”

The man nodded as his hands finally fell away from the steering wheel.

“I need to see the cash first,” Bucky told him bluntly. He had learnt from past experience that there was no point beating around the bush when it came to payment.

The man reached into his jeans pocket and produced the notes. He threw them onto the dashboard and then looked at Bucky in anticipation.

Bucky smiled and leant further towards him. He reached forwards and palmed the bulge at the man’s crotch, then moved his hand up to pop the buttons on his jeans. His customer was wide eyed as Bucky made quick work of the fastenings. Even inside the dimly-lit car, Bucky noticed that his new customer had exceptionally blue eyes. He dragged his own eyes away from the man’s face and refocused his attention on the task at hand – literally.

Just as Bucky’s hand was about to disappear beneath the waistband of the man’s underwear, bright lights lit up the car and men in uniforms appeared at either side of the vehicle.

“Fuck!” Bucky swore as he retracted his hand and sat back in his seat. He looked at the man beside him, “Hard luck buddy, getting busted on your first time.”

The car doors were opened and both Bucky and the stranger were hauled out. Bucky rolled his eyes at the police officer who began giving him the usual spiel. He glanced at his would-be customer, hands spread out against his car as the cops frisked him. ‘ _Pity_ ,’ he thought, ‘ _I could have used another regular and I wouldn’t have minded_ him _at all. He’ll be permanently frightened away now_.’

Bucky cursed his bad luck as he was guided towards a waiting police car, tucked into the back seat and driven away from the scene.  

***

The police officer sighed in frustration as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. He leant forward across the desk. “If you don’t co-operate, you’ll be spending the night in a cell.”

Bucky smiled back at the officer as he stretched his arms above his head. He wasn’t feeling in a particularly helpful mood. He had been dragged away from a guaranteed fifty dollars and was now losing out on any other business that might have come his way because he was sitting in a police interview room. Not only that, but this cop had been talking to him like something he had wiped off the bottom of his shoe since he had arrived, so he didn’t feel much like co-operating. His casual position on the plastic chair he occupied didn’t reflect how pissed off he truly was. His legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles as he slouched backwards. In truth, he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night and possibly the next day in police custody, but it might just be worth it to irritate the balding officer who was sitting opposite him.

“We’ll try again, shall we? _Name_?” the cop asked with thinly-veiled annoyance.

Bucky raised his eyebrow as though he was thinking, “Flintstone. Fred Flintstone.”

The cop almost growled in annoyance, “I don’t suppose _you_ have a fixed abode?”

That pissed Bucky off even more. Did he look like he lived on the streets? He’d been there, done that and he knew he had looked a hell of a lot worse when he did. Why did people like this dickhead always assume the worst?

The cop had started off on the wrong foot with Bucky when he had immediately asked him what drugs he had taken in the last 24 hours. Just because he was a hooker, it didn’t automatically make him a junkie. Bucky had decided in that moment that he was going to make the interview as awkward as possible just to teach the pig a lesson. He was about to retort and tell the cop what he thought of him when the door to the interview room opened and the man from the silver car stepped into the room. He looked different now; the casual outfit was gone, replaced by a well-fitting suit, waistcoat, shirt and tie combo.

“I’ll take it from here thanks, Johnson,” he said as he held the door open for the rather relieved looking cop to make his exit.

Bucky shook his head and chuckled dryly as the man sat down opposite him, “I should have known. Guys like you don’t go looking for hookers.”

The man raised his eyebrows before speaking, “I’m Detective Steve Rogers. I work as part of a special unit called SHIELD. It’s a division of the Vice team.”

“Of course: I should have known,” Bucky responded sarcastically, “And I guess you’re here to play ‘good cop’, seeing as your pal was doing such a shitty job being ‘bad cop’.”

“I’m not here to _play_ anything. We brought you in because we hoped that you would give us some information. Clearly from your interaction with my colleague you’re not in the mood to help, so I’d say that this was a waste of your time and mine. We need to fill in some paperwork with a few of your details to process your ‘visit’ here and then you’re free to go,” the detective told him.

Bucky eyed him slightly suspiciously but decided that this cop was a lot better than the one that had been sitting opposite him previously. “Just one question,” he said, “Why did you get ‘arrested’ when the cops came? Why put on a show like that?”

“You never know who is watching. We had to make it look realistic so that no-one else would know that it was a set-up,” Detective Rogers replied.

Bucky nodded, then bluntly said, “James Barnes.” Sometimes when he had run-ins with the authorities, he gave false information, but other times, like this one, he just told the truth. It wasn’t like anyone really cared who he was.

The detective began writing the information that Bucky provided on a form and within minutes the task was done.

“Thank you, James,” he said. “You’re free to go.” He stood up and began to walk towards the door.

“Wait,” Bucky called out, “What information were you interested in?”

“It doesn’t matter now; I’m sure we’ll find someone who is willing to help us,” the detective replied. Again he turned to leave the room. He held the door open as Bucky stood up and made his way towards the exit.

Just as Bucky passed him he stopped and spoke again, “Detective Rogers, a couple of tips for you. If you want a hooker to help you, don’t _arrest_ them. And if you’re planning on using cops to pose as johns, I’d let the likes of Officer Johnson do it next time. You’re not exactly the usual type of customer we get out there.”

The detective looked a little puzzled, “I managed to fool you.”

“Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe I believed what I wanted to,” Bucky replied with the slightest smile.

Detective Rogers smiled briefly at his comment before he nodded at him and walked down the corridor away from Bucky.           

***

A few evenings after his arrest, Bucky had all but forgotten about the experience. It wasn’t the first time that he had been taken to the police station and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. He had bitched and moaned about the whole experience to Natasha and warned his friend about the possibility of police officers posing as johns, before pushing the event to the back of his mind and carrying on with his routine as normal.

As he and Natasha were leaving their apartment one evening on their way to work, something caught his eye. A silver car parked across the street; a silver car that he recognised immediately. He told Natasha to go on without him and that he would catch her up before he crossed the road and headed straight for the vehicle.

As he approached the car, the driver’s door opened and Detective Rogers stepped out.

Bucky raised his eyebrow at him before he leant back against the front of the car.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said flippantly. “You’ll get a reputation if you keep hanging around places like this.”

Detective Rogers shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I’m actually taking your advice.”

Bucky’s face scrunched in confusion, “So you’ve sent your butt ugly partner out to pick up a hooker?”

The detective laughed slightly. “I assume you’re talking about Johnson, seeing as you and he hit it off so well the other night. Well, he’s not my partner and no he’s not out cruising for prostitutes. I was actually talking about your other piece of advice.”

Bucky looked at him blankly, so he continued, “About not arresting people if I wanted help from them.”

The memory of their conversation came back to Bucky and he nodded in understanding, “So, that brings you here because…?”

“I wondered how you might feel about helping this time seeing as you’re not down at the station,” Detective Rogers filled in for him.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch. I need information from someone that is part of this world. You suggested that I was going about it in the wrong way, so here I am. I’m not trying to trick you. I just want to talk to you and ask you some questions. If you’re not interested, I’ll try to find someone else,” Detective Rogers told him.

Bucky considered what he had heard for a moment. “Would I have to come down to the police station?”

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to do that. I can imagine that that would seem like walking into the lion’s den for you. We could meet somewhere else, away from this immediate area though for obvious reasons,” Detective Rogers said.

Bucky looked away from the detective and stared down the street for a while as he thought about what to do. He usually avoided the police at all costs. Most of the cops he had encountered were ignorant bastards that assumed the worst. He wouldn’t normally have even considered helping them, but something about this detective seemed different somehow. For some reason that Bucky couldn’t quite place, he felt like this cop wasn’t feeding him any bullshit and wasn’t looking down his nose at him.

“Fine, I’ll answer some questions for you,” Bucky finally said as he turned back.

Detective Rogers couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face, but he continued quickly, “That’s great, how about tomorrow? Do you know a place called 'Maria’s'? The diner? It would be a good place for us to meet away from here.”

“I know it,” Bucky replied easily, “We better make it late afternoon though; I do work nights after all.”

“Does four suit you?” Detective Rogers asked.

“Sure, that’ll be fine,” Bucky said as he pushed away from the car and began walking away from the officer.

“Four o’clock then,” Detective Rogers called, “Thank you, James.”

Bucky smiled to himself and fought the urge to turn back and look at the cop again. He didn’t understand it, but he was actually looking forward to meeting up with him tomorrow.   

***

Four o’clock arrived and Detective Rogers waited patiently at a table at the diner. He was pretty sure that James wouldn’t show up, but he was hoping that he would be proved wrong. He had told himself that James probably just arranged to meet him to get him to leave, but a small part of him was trying to keep positive. This was the most progress he had made in a long time; he had to be grateful for that.

Minutes dragged by and he was on his second cup of coffee when the door opened and James sauntered into the diner. His eyes scanned the place and he made his way towards the table. He clearly wasn’t in a hurry even though he was fifteen minutes late. He slipped into the booth opposite Detective Rogers and looked at him expectantly.

“I really appreciate you doing this, James,” Detective Rogers said.

Bucky slipped off his jacket, “I bet you thought I wasn’t going to show, didn’t you?”

“Actually, you’re right. I thought you might change your mind when you went away and thought about it,” Detective Rogers replied. “But I’m glad you came.”

Before any other conversation could be started a waitress appeared. She took their order for two coffees and left them alone again.

“So what am I _actually_ doing here?” Bucky asked, secretly thinking that the question had a much deeper meaning for him.

“I’ve told you that I want to get some information. I know that the best way to do that isn’t hauling people down to the station. I want to talk to you informally, that’s why I didn’t want you to come to the police station. I know you wouldn’t be comfortable there,” the detective told him.

“Well, Detective Rogers, you can ask your questions, but I’m not promising to answer any of them,” Bucky replied with a quirk of his right eyebrow.

“Anything you can give me will be a start, I’m sure. Seeing as we’re doing this informally, you can call me Steve. We may as well be on first name terms, unless that makes you uncomfortable,” Detective Rogers said.

The shock of what he had said obviously showed on Bucky’s face and Steve actually laughed slightly at the reaction. “I just thought seeing as I was calling you by your first name that you might as well do the same, unless you want me to call you Mr. Barnes?”

A sudden change seemed to come over the other man; his face darkened and he looked down at the table. Steve wondered if he had crossed some invisible line that he hadn’t realised was there and feared that James would get up and leave. He didn’t know why his comment had caused the reaction it had but he hoped that it wouldn’t have ruined his first good lead in months. Fortunately, the awkward silence that followed was interrupted by the waitress bringing them their coffee.

“Thank you, Helen,” Steve said as the woman placed the cups down on the table.

“You’re welcome, Steve,” she smiled as she turned and left them to it.

When Steve looked back at the man opposite him, he saw that James was no longer looking at the table; instead he was studying the detective closely.

“Do you come in here often?” he asked.

“Fairly regularly,” Steve replied, “It’s quiet, out of the way, they do great coffee and I like the décor.”

Bucky didn’t smile at Steve’s attempt at humour, he just continued to look at him for a moment before he said, “You can call me Bucky. Nearly everyone else does – my middle name’s Buchanan – don’t ask, so just…call me Bucky. So what do you want to know?”

Slightly confused by the sudden jump in conversation, Steve realised that he was going to have to keep up with the tangents that James – no ‘Bucky’ - seemed to go off on. “Do you work for a pimp?” he asked.

The look of distaste that passed over Bucky’s face was enough of an answer for Steve, but Bucky spoke anyway, “No way. I work for me and me alone. I don’t need some sleazy pimp telling me when and where I work, beating me up if I step out of line, then taking my money. Besides, if I did, I wouldn’t be here talking to you.”

“But I assume you know of the pimps that work the local area,” Steve continued.

Again Bucky pulled a face, “Of course I know them, although I try to stay off their radar to be honest.”

Steve didn’t speak; he just nodded his head to encourage Bucky to continue.

“They don’t like competition. There’s a lot of trouble between them. It’s best to stay out of their way. Some of them have tried to ‘recruit’ us before, but we told them we weren’t interested. I thought we’d have to leave town because they weren’t exactly impressed by that, but they’ve mostly left us alone since then. They come sniffing around every so often but I think we’re alright as long as we’re not on the patch that they have hookers working.”

Steve nodded again. “Who’s ‘we’?” he asked as he took a sip from his coffee.

Bucky looked at him steadily, as though he was trying to decide if he could really trust this police officer. He made up his mind. “My room-mate, Natasha, and me. We work together. Where’s this leading anyway? You obviously know who the main pimps are and I don’t work for any of them, so how is this going to help you?”

“We know that the money pimps make from prostitution is used in the illegal drugs trade, and people trafficking. We have a few main suspects, but we’re struggling to pin anything on them. We need inside information. Do you think any of the prostitutes that work for them would be willing to talk?” Steve said.

“To _you_?” Bucky blurted out. “No way. I’m pretty sure they don’t want to end up dead in an alley.”

Steve knew that what Bucky said was true. “They might talk to you though. That’s what I need; someone that can get them to open up a bit. Do you think you could get anything from them?”

Bucky considered this for a long time. He traced a pattern on the table-top with his finger as he thought. His mind kept screaming at him, ‘ _What are you even doing here? You’re sitting having a cup of coffee with a cop like it’s normal! It’s not normal! He’s a cop, you’re a hooker, walk away now.’_ But something inside of him was desperate to know where this was going to end up. Something was telling him that it was the right thing to do and that if he didn’t do it he would spend the rest of his life wondering what might have been.

Steve sat and watched patiently. He didn’t want to put too much pressure on. He knew that he was asking a lot from Bucky.

Suddenly, Bucky spoke up. “What do I get out of all of this?”

Steve blew out a long breath as he tried to think of the best way to answer.

“You get the knowledge that you’ve done the right thing. You’d be helping to prevent the trade of illegal drugs that ruin so many people’s lives – at least for a little while. You’d be helping to lock up some of those ‘sleazy pimps’ that you talked about before. My unit specialises in tackling dangerous, often violent, criminals that take advantage of vulnerable people, people who can’t always protect themselves. You could play a part in that,” Steve trailed off for a moment, then suddenly added, “And I’ll make sure you have all the coffee you want when we meet up.” He smiled at Bucky hopefully.

The little list of reasons weren’t really what made Bucky’s mind up for him. It was the fact that Steve hadn’t offered to pay him, well except in coffee.

Bucky had spent so long being a prostitute that it was all he knew. Everyone judged him and knew that his services came at a price. For the first time in years, someone was asking him for something and not really offering him anything in return. Steve was different from every other cop he had ever encountered because Steve didn’t treat him like a hooker.

A small smile twitched at the corners of Bucky’s mouth as he looked at Steve steadily.

“I’ll do it,” he said simply.

The small smile on his face threatened to become a full blown grin when he saw the look of elation on the detective’s face.

Steve reached into his jacket and pulled out a small piece of white card and slid it across the table to Bucky. “That’s my card,” he said, “My direct number in my office is there and my cell number, so anytime you want to talk or meet up you can contact me.”

Bucky looked at the neat little card for a moment then back at Steve.

“It’s not going to happen overnight. It’ll take a bit of time to even find out who’s likely to give me anything useful. They’re all careful what they say because they know what’s a stake. They’ll have to feel comfortable talking to me. I can’t just go and ask them anything outright.”

Steve nodded in understanding. “Absolutely. I understand,” he paused for a moment before continuing, “Be careful and don’t put yourself at risk. If you’re worried about anything, pull back from it.”

Bucky felt a strange sensation in his chest and he put it down to the fact that no-one, other than Natasha, had cared about him enough to tell him to ‘be careful’ in a long time. It made him slightly uncomfortable and he slid out of the booth immediately. He grabbed his jacket from the seat and took the card off the table. “I’ll be in touch,” he said as he slipped it into his back pocket. Then he turned and walked away before Steve could say anything else.      

Steve watched as Bucky exited the diner and disappeared from his sight. He wondered what he was doing getting involved in something like this. He wondered if Bucky really would be in touch, then he silently berated himself for not having faith in him. Bucky seemed like a decent enough guy. Steve had always prided himself on being a good judge of character; he just hoped he was right this time.


	2. 2

Three weeks passed before Bucky contacted Steve. It had been a struggle for Steve to hold back and not visit the area that Bucky lived or worked in to see if he had any news for him, but he kept reminding himself that it wouldn’t be helpful and it probably wouldn’t go down well with Bucky.

Just as Steve was beginning to wonder if Bucky would ever get in touch with him, he received a phone call asking to meet up at the diner.

***

Eagerly, Steve arrived at the diner as planned and noticed that Bucky wasn’t there yet. He headed straight to the table that they had occupied the last time that they had met up and took a seat.

Ten minutes later, he decided that Bucky was obviously not good at time keeping, but this time he didn’t doubt that Bucky would eventually arrive.

After a while, he did arrive and he made his way over to Steve in his usual casual manner. He slid into the seat opposite the detective and nodded slightly in greeting.

“How have you been, Bucky?” Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “Busy. Between working and trying to get information for you I’ve certainly been keeping myself occupied.”

Two coffees were brought to the table by the waitress from the last time they had been in the shop.

“I assumed you’d want one,” Steve said as he waved his hand at the cups.

Bucky smiled gratefully and pulled one closer. “So, I’ve been making some new friends,” he said cryptically.

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. “Just in case you tell me anything I need to write down.”

Bucky nodded in understanding before he continued, “There are two hookers that I’ve been spending some time with. One’s a woman called Tara, the other’s a younger guy called Peter. To be honest, I think Peter will be my best chance of getting information. He seems fed up of everything, almost like he wants out; I think he’d be willing to tell me anything.”

Steve looked pleased by Bucky’s news. “So, who do they work for?”

Bucky looked over his shoulder automatically and his voice seemed lower when he spoke again. “A guy called Karpov. He’s a nasty piece of work, not a guy you want to mess with. I know he can get pretty violent. I think that’s why Peter’s had enough.”

Steve sat back a little in his seat and chewed the inside of his cheek before he spoke again.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about him. He’s got a reputation that’s for sure; we know he’s a big player in the trade. You’ve definitely picked the right people to speak to because he’s one of the pimps that we’ve been trying to investigate for a long time.”

Bucky looked pleased with himself as he took a sip from his coffee. Their conversation continued for a little while before Bucky decided that he had nothing else to tell Steve and decided to leave. They didn’t make any plans to meet up again, just left it that Bucky would be in touch.

***

A few days later, Bucky was sitting on his bed idly flicking through a newspaper when he heard Natasha coming through the door of their apartment and calling out to him.

“I’m in here,” Bucky called back.

Natasha came wandering in, flopped onto the bed beside him, and began talking immediately, “Guess what I’ve just heard?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got no idea, Nat. We’re getting a visit from the President tonight?”

Natasha scowled slightly, “Nope, _far_ more interesting than that. Apparently cops were all over an alley not far from here early this morning – there was a _dead_ hooker.”

Bucky looked up sharply, “Who?”

“Remember Vicky, the little blonde? It was her,” Natasha told him.

Bucky nodded that he remembered the woman. “Was it to do with her pimp?”

Natasha shook her head knowingly, “Apparently not. Beth said that she saw her getting into a car with a john that she didn’t recognise last night. They drove off, the next time anyone saw her, she was dead in an alley.”

Bucky blew out a long breath. “Worrying,” he said.

“Hmm,” Natasha agreed, “Let’s hope it was just somebody passing through.”

Bucky nodded as Natasha left him to his newspaper, but he couldn’t concentrate on reading now. His thoughts were suddenly much more serious. They had dealt with things like this before. A few years ago some psycho had terrorised the prostitutes working the area. There had been several attacks over a short period of time and it had left all of them unnerved and wondering whether they would have to quit their profession before they ended up dead.

After a while, the attacks had ceased and everything had returned to normal. That seemed so long ago now, but Bucky dreaded anything similar happening again.

He dug into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the now crumpled card that he had been given a few weeks ago. He stared at the numbers on the card for a while before he tucked it back into his pocket and went to talk to Natasha.

***

Three days later, Bucky arranged a meeting with Steve. He arrived at the diner, late as usual, and found Steve waiting for him in the normal place.

Bucky did have some information for the detective which he delivered quickly. Then he sat tapping his fingers agitatedly on the table top.

Steve eyed him with concern. “Is everything alright, Bucky? You seem a little distracted.”

Bucky met his eyes and bit his lip for a few seconds. “Did you hear about the hooker that was killed the other night?” he asked.

Sombrely, Steve nodded. “Yes, I heard. We were called in because it was on our patch.” He waited for Bucky to speak again but he didn’t, so Steve continued. “Did it have something to do with one of the pimps that we’re investigating?”

Bucky shook his head immediately, “No. That’s not what the word on the street is. One of the girls saw her getting into a car with a john that she didn’t know. The next thing anyone knew, she was dead.”

Steve leant forward upon hearing Bucky’s words. “You mean, someone _actually_ saw her getting in a car with a guy? The girl has got to come forward. She could help us track down the killer.”

Bucky snorted at the suggestion. “Are you serious? That’ll never happen.”

“Why not?” Steve asked. He sounded frustrated, “If it helps to catch a murderer surely she’ll help.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the naivety of the detective. “In case you’ve forgotten, hookers don’t help the police. Even on something like this.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at Bucky’s words. “ _You’re_ helping _me_ ,” he pointed out stubbornly.

There was a moment of silence in which Bucky looked torn between irritated and slightly amused by Steve’s comment. Then he simply huffed out, “That’s different.”

“ _How_?” Steve burst out with a slight laugh. “How is that ‘ _different’_?”

“It just is,” Bucky replied.

“Great argument,” Steve muttered as he smiled warmly at Bucky.

Bucky gave Steve a sarcastic smile in return before draining his mug of coffee and standing up from the table.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said as he began to walk away.

“Bucky,” Steve called. He had stood up too and was standing beside the table.

Bucky turned to look at him.

“Take care,” Steve said simply.

The smile that Bucky gave him this time was a genuine one and Steve returned it. The moment seemed to last a long time, before Bucky became aware that it was going on for too long, and he turned and left the diner.

***

The weeks seemed to be passing by quickly. Steve and Bucky had been meeting up fairly regularly as Bucky seemed to be uncovering more useful information on a nearly daily basis.

Their first few meetings had dealt with just the facts; Bucky had told Steve what he knew and then left. The most recent encounters had been different though. When Bucky had began shuffling about like he was about to leave, Steve had invited him to stay. At first, Bucky had looked at Steve suspiciously and wondered what else he wanted, but as he sat back in his seat, he had realised that Steve wanted nothing more than to just talk. Eventually, all of their meetings began to end in the same way; conversation between them became easier and they actually began to develop a somewhat playful banter. If a stranger had seen the two of them sitting in the diner, they could have easily mistaken them for old friends.

One afternoon when Bucky arrived at the diner, he immediately noticed that Steve looked different; his knee was bobbing up and down rapidly and his fingers drummed on the table-top repeatedly - he seemed worried about something.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked casually as he threw his jacket onto the seat and sat down.

Steve offered Bucky a weak smile. “Mmm,” he grunted, “I’ve got some bad news.”

Bucky waited for Steve to explain, even though he didn’t like the sound of where this might be going.

“I don’t want you to worry too much yet. I mean it could just be a coincidence…We got a report that a body had been found in the early hours of this morning. It was another female prostitute, in the same alleyway as the last one a few weeks ago,” Steve told him.

He didn’t need to say anything else: Bucky was smart enough to figure out what that meant for himself.

Bucky blew out a long sigh. “Shit,” he muttered. “You think it’s the same guy again?”

Steve nodded slowly, “I’d say so. Of course they’re running tests and stuff to try to find a DNA match, but, from what I’ve seen, I’d say that it was pretty much a definite thing.”

There wasn’t anything that Bucky could say. It was a worrying situation but he couldn’t change it. He knew why Steve had told him; he was trying to warn him to be careful and he appreciated that. But for now, there was really no point in him getting too concerned about it. He would be careful, he always was. He nodded at Steve and began to tell him the latest news he had found out.

***

The problem of the attacks was something that Bucky pushed to the back of his mind. He had a job to do and he couldn’t afford to let anything put him off. Unfortunately, the problem hit close to home a week after Steve had told him about the second victim in the alley.

Bucky had been out to buy milk. When he let himself back into the apartment, Natasha was just coming out of her room.

“James, I think we’ve got a serious problem,” Natasha said when she saw her friend.

Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he waited for his room-mate to explain her comment.

“There was another attack last night,” Natasha told him.

Bucky’s jaw actually dropped a little in shock before he managed to ask who it was this time.

“One of the twinks that works for Karpov – a guy called Peter,” Natasha said. She was about to continue but the look on Bucky’s face made her hesitate. “You alright, James?”

Bucky leant against the wall as he breathed out, “Shit.”

“I didn’t know you knew him that well,” Natasha said sounding sympathetic.

Bucky looked up at his friend. “I didn’t really. Well, I had been talking to him a bit recently. He seemed like a nice enough guy. I can’t believe this.”

Natasha seemed to accept what Bucky said and moved into the small kitchen area as she talked. “Well, I think it’s pretty obvious that we’ve got some psycho cruising the streets. Just what we needed. As if life’s not perfect enough as it is.”

Bucky listened to his friend for a while, commenting and agreeing when he thought he should, but his head wasn’t really in the conversation.

When Natasha slipped out later, Bucky immediately reached for the card in his back pocket. He didn’t hesitate this time as he called Steve to arrange a meeting.

A few hours later, Bucky entered the diner. For once he was on time: in fact he was early and had beaten Steve there. He sat down and waited. He had insisted that they had to meet up today and Steve, sensing the urgency in Bucky’s voice, had agreed.

When Steve walked in, he actually stumbled a little as he saw Bucky already sitting waiting at the table. He got over his shock quickly and made his way over to Bucky.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he sat down.

Bucky looked at him with slightly wide eyes and Steve knew that something had upset him. “What’s wrong, Bucky?” he asked.

Bucky looked down at the table for a moment and breathed out. When he lifted his head back up, Steve was shocked to see the look on his face. He had never seen Bucky looking so worried.

“There was another attack last night,” Bucky said sombrely.

Steve sighed, “I know. Things are getting out of hand.”

“That’s not all though. The guy that was attacked…it was Peter; the one I was talking to for you,” Bucky continued.

Steve’s eyes widened, “Oh, shit.”

Bucky might have laughed at how similar Steve’s reaction was to his own upon hearing the news, if it hadn’t been such a serious conversation.

There was silence between the two men for a while as they were both lost in their own thoughts.

“That’s the second murder in as many weeks,” Bucky said eventually.

“Murder?” Steve asked, “No, Bucky, the guy from last night isn’t dead. He’s in a mess; badly beaten, sexually assaulted, he’s in a coma, but he’s alive.”

Bucky didn’t know whether to cheer or cry as he heard Steve’s words. Of course he was pleased that Peter was alive, but hearing what had happened to him was terrible. Briefly, he wondered if death was preferable to what Peter would have to deal with if he ever woke up.

It occurred to Bucky that the police must be doing something about the problem seeing as they now had two bodies on their hands and a third victim in the hospital. “So what are the cops going to do about it then?” he asked suddenly.

Steve looked at him steadily, “There’s an investigation going on but there’s not a lot we can do right now.”

Bucky couldn’t believe his ears. There was some psycho running around out there, picking them off one-by-one, and Steve was saying that there wasn’t anything they could do? He was pissed off.

“Yeah, well I suppose it makes things better for you lot,” he spat. “One less hooker on the streets.”

He tried to stand up to move away, but Steve quickly reached across the table and placed his hand on Bucky’s arm. Bucky was so surprised by the action that he froze in his seat.

“How can you _think_ that?” Steve asked him. He sounded almost hurt by Bucky’s accusation. “I’d rather have prostitutes working the streets than a murderer stalking them.”

Bucky didn’t speak but he felt somewhat ashamed of himself for taking his frustrations out on Steve. His eyes lowered and looked at Steve’s hand that was still resting on his arm.

“We can’t do anything until we get some decent evidence gathered. Of course it would help if we had some witnesses to speak to.” Steve continued to speak before Bucky could retort, “And I _know_ that’s not going to happen. You just have to give us some time.”

Bucky nodded slowly but didn’t look up. “I know,” he muttered, “I just don’t like feeling that there’s someone out there waiting to pounce.”

Finally, Bucky lifted his eyes to look at Steve, “I’d better get going.”

Steve suddenly seemed to realise that his hand was still holding onto Bucky’s arm across the table. He pulled his hand away quickly.

“Alright,” he said. “Just be careful, okay? If you have to work, don’t go off with anyone you don’t know.”

Half of Bucky wanted to be pissed off that Steve was talking to him like some naïve kid who didn’t know how to take care of himself, but the other half was pleased that Steve actually cared enough to tell him those things. He smiled weakly at the detective before he stood up and walked away.

***

Much later, Bucky was standing in his usual spot looking up and down the street. He felt agitated tonight and he knew he was stressed about the added danger they were all facing. His stress levels were being amplified by the fact that he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. He had been feeling the same all night.

A car eventually approached him. It was one of his regulars and he was glad for the chance to get away from the street for a while. He greeted his customer, with as much enthusiasm as he could manage, and slipped into the passenger seat.

As the car set off down the street, Bucky noticed a silver car parked up. He was almost positive that he recognised the vehicle, but he could hardly believe it. As the car that Bucky was a passenger in passed the silver one, he looked sideways out of the window to inspect it more closely. He drew in a sharp breath as he looked straight into familiar blue eyes - _Steve’s_ eyes. The moment lasted mere seconds as the car continued moving down the street.

As Bucky sat back in the passenger seat, he realised that he had been right in feeling that someone was watching him. He just couldn’t have guessed that it was _Steve_ that was doing the watching.

Bucky could hardly wait to get back to the street to see if Steve’s car was still parked there. When he returned, he was stunned to see the silver car in the same place as before. His mind was racing as he tried to understand what would make Steve want to spend his night sitting there.

It was late, or early depending on how you looked at it, when Bucky and Natasha decided to call it a night. They began walking along the street heading for home. They were going in the opposite direction of where Steve’s car, which hadn’t moved, had been parked all night.

Bucky cast a quick glance over his shoulder as they walked away. The silver car was moving slowly away from its position. Bucky allowed himself a small smile as he turned back and continued listening to Natasha talking as they walked home.

***

It was difficult for Bucky to decide whether he was grateful for or irritated by Steve’s constant presence while he was working. As much as he wanted to be annoyed by the fact that the detective obviously thought he needed some sort of guardian angel watching over him, Bucky couldn’t help but smile to himself when he spotted the silver car each time he arrived at his usual spot.

If he was honest, he really did appreciate Steve’s concern for his welfare, but he still couldn’t understand why he would want to spend his evenings hanging around the area in his car.

Steve had been parked somewhere nearby every night for a week now. Bucky hadn’t approached him and had given no obvious sign that he was even aware of his presence. He assumed that Steve realised that Bucky knew he was there.

They hadn’t met up at the diner since Peter had been attacked; there was no news so Bucky didn’t think there was any point. He was pretty sure that Steve wouldn’t want to meet up so that they could talk about the weather or anything else that didn’t involve his investigation. There was no information for Bucky to gather at the moment anyway. His main source was lying comatose in the hospital and most of the other prostitutes had been even more guarded with who they spent their time with since the attacks had started.

Things had been quiet for a week now. No new attacks, which was definitely a positive, but there was a definite sense of nervousness amongst the people who worked the streets.

***

It had been a fairly slow night and for once Bucky was relieved. He had been suffering with the symptoms of a cold for a few days, but tonight he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. His head pounded, his muscles ached and his body couldn’t decide whether it was boiling hot or freezing cold. After a few hours of standing around feeling sorry for himself and dealing half-heartedly with a few customers, he decided to call it a night. He hoped that if he could get a few hours of extra sleep, he’d feel better tomorrow.

Bucky was wrong. When he woke up late the next day, he knew that his cold had developed into a nasty case of the flu. All the symptoms from the previous few days seemed to be amplified. He struggled to push himself into a sitting position, feeling like his limbs were dead weights, and groaned lowly at the throbbing in his head. There was movement outside his bedroom and then Natasha opened the door and stepped in.

“You’re finally awake,” she said stating the obvious. “Jeez, you look like shit.”

Bucky scowled at her but didn’t speak, he didn’t know if he could. He began moving painfully slowly out of his bed.

“Woah,” Natasha said as she stepped forward, “Where are you going?”

Bucky swallowed and winced as the sensation seemed to tear at his throat. “Have to get ready for work,” he forced out gruffly.

Natasha blew out a breath. “Not like that, you’re not. You can hardly move; you’re not going to be able to stand up out there, let alone do anything else.”

Bucky looked at her with a challenge on his pale face. “Don’t have a choice. Besides I can’t let you go out there on your own at the minute.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at her friend. “I appreciate your concern, James, but you’re going to end up in the hospital if you push yourself too much. I can take care of myself, you know.” It was obvious that Bucky was about to protest further, so she continued, “But to make you feel better, I’ll go and hang around with some of the other girls until you’re back on your feet – at least then you won’t be worrying about me, thinking that I’m on my own without you there to ‘protect’ me.”

She walked towards Bucky, who was still scowling up at her, and gently pushed him backwards onto his bed.

“Now, no more arguments.” Natasha turned and walked towards the bedroom door, then said over her shoulder with a smirk, “No-one would want to pick you up tonight anyway; you really do look like shit.”

Bucky would have raised his middle finger at his friend if he’d had the energy. Instead, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

***

The next few days went by in a blur for Bucky. He really had no concept of days and nights seeing as he slept for such a long time.

Natasha was doing her best to take care of him, but she still had to work so Bucky was often alone. He had hardly left his room in the last few days; the effort of simply walking to the bathroom seemed to drain him of all energy.

It had been four nights since he had last been to work. Natasha had left about an hour ago and as Bucky lay on his bed he actually thought that he was feeling a little better than he had in days. He decided to put it to the test and pushed himself slowly out of his bed. He made his way towards the kitchen area steadily and leant against the counter as he poured himself a glass of water. His head still pounded and he had developed a rattling cough that seemed to shake his whole body. He knew that he wouldn’t be going back out to work for a while.

As he stood beside the sink, sipping slowly at the water, he heard an insistent knocking on the door of the apartment. Bucky placed the glass on the side and began a painfully slow walk towards the door. It was hardly a long way to go seeing as the apartment was so small, but Bucky didn’t have the energy to move any quicker.

‘ _Whoever it is will have probably given up by the time I get there_ ,’ he grumbled internally.

He eventually reached the door and pulled it open to reveal a rather fraught looking detective standing on the other side.

“Thank God, you’re alright,” Steve said immediately, then he stopped as he looked Bucky over. “ _Are_ you alright? You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” Bucky muttered as he moved away from the door and sat down on a chair in the tiny living area of the apartment. He looked at Steve questioningly. “What are you doing here?” he asked hoarsely.

Steve stepped slightly further into the apartment and pushed the door closed behind him.

“I thought something had happened to you. You haven’t been at work; your friend wasn’t there either. I thought you were hurt or maybe you’d moved away.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, assuming that the detective was worried about his investigation. “Well, I’m not dead and I’ll get back into snooping around for you as soon as I’m better, okay?”

Steve looked taken aback. “That’s not why I’m here,” he said quickly. “With everything that’s been happening I wanted to check that you were safe. I was worried.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and Steve actually blushed as he realised what he had said. He continued quickly, “It doesn’t look like you are alright though. What’s wrong?”

Deciding not to dwell on Steve’s previous comment, Bucky filled him in, “I’ve got the flu. I feel like shit to be honest.”

“Oh right,” Steve said, not really knowing what else to say. He suddenly felt awkward. “Is Natasha taking care of you?”

“She’s doing her best,” Bucky told him. “Doesn’t really do the whole nurse-maid thing.”

Steve shuffled a little on the spot then announced, “Well, I’m glad it’s nothing too serious. I’m sorry that I bothered you when you probably just want to get some rest. I’ll see you soon. Feel better.” He turned around quickly and exited the apartment closing the door quietly behind him.

Bucky remained in his seat for quite a while after Steve had left. Partly because he needed to build up the energy to move and partly because he was trying to figure out what had just happened.

Steve had gone to the effort of coming to his home to check up on him because he was _worried_ about him? When Bucky had opened the door Steve had looked genuinely concerned. He had actually said that he wanted to make sure that Bucky was safe.

After a while, Bucky decided to move; his head hurt too much from his headache already to sit there trying to understand the bizarre visit that had just taken place.

***

The following day, Bucky was feeling slightly better again. He hoped that he was on the right side of his illness now and he was going to gradually get back on his feet properly.

Natasha had popped out to the shop and Bucky was alone in his room again. He had spent most of the time he was awake going over his encounter with Steve from the previous day. He wanted to think that Steve was just worried about his investigation and had just checked up on him because he needed to make sure that his ‘spy’ was still going to be able to work for him, but something about Steve’s reaction yesterday made it difficult for him to believe that.

Yet again, he was thinking about what had happened when he heard a knock on the apartment door. His mind immediately pictured Steve, then he silently cursed himself for being stupid. He gradually made his way to the door and opened it. There was nobody there. He was about to step out into the hallway to check, when he looked down and saw a brown paper bag sitting on the floor. He leant down and picked it up, then looked down the corridor before stepping back inside and closing the door. Cautiously, he opened the bag and saw a piece of white paper folded up at the top. He pulled it out and opened it:

_Bucky,_

_Think these will probably help._

_Hope you’re feeling better soon._

_Steve_

Bucky peered into the bag and raised his eyebrows. He went to the table and carefully tipped the contents out. Various medicines rolled out onto the table; painkillers and cough syrup, and finally two cans of chicken soup. Before he could think about it, a wide smile had appeared on his face and he picked up the note and re-read it.

Surely these could not be the actions of someone who just wanted him to help them with their investigation. The smile remained fixed on Bucky’s face as he gathered up the note, the bag and its contents and took them to his room.

It was quite a while before Natasha returned. She walked straight into Bucky’s room and stared at her friend for a while.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” she said eventually. “We need to talk.”

Bucky had already noticed the odd look on his friend’s face and now he was wondering what was going on. For a horrible moment, he thought that Natasha was going to tell him that there had been another attack.

“What’s up?” Bucky asked her.

“I was hoping that _you_ could tell me that,” Natasha said bluntly.

The confusion Bucky felt obviously showed on his face, so Natasha continued, “I was wondering why some strange guy has been visiting you.”

Bucky’s confused expression changed to a look of wide-eyed understanding as he finally realised what Natasha was talking about. What he didn’t know was _how_ Natasha knew about Steve’s visits so he continued to play dumb. “What are you talking about, Nat?”

Natasha was looking more and more pissed off as she began her explanation, “Don’t play dumb with me, James – it doesn’t suit you. Yesterday, I heard that some guy was asking which apartment was ours: then today when I get back from the shop, I find out that the _same_ guy has been back. Except this time, he brought a package in a bag with him; he came into the building with it, then left without it not long after. So you can imagine that I’m more than a little curious about what the hell is going on!”

When she finished speaking she stared at Bucky silently, challenging him to make up some excuse. However, before Bucky could speak, Natasha continued, “If you’ve got yourself mixed up in drugs or some shit then you have to tell me. I’ll be angry, but I’ll help you. But I can’t do anything if you aren’t telling me the truth.”   

There was a moment of tense silence before Bucky leant off the side of his bed and reached into his nightstand. He pulled out the paper bag and tipped the contents out onto his bed. “These are my ‘drugs’,” he said as he waved his hand over the medicines.

Natasha inspected the pile before looking at her friend in confusion.

“Sit down,” Bucky said patting the bed, “I’ll explain everything as long as you promise not to freak out.”

“That’s not exactly the best way to start your explanation, James,” Natasha said as she sat down.

Bucky took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “The guy that came looking for me is a cop. He came over yesterday and then brought this stuff round today.”

Natasha continued to look at her friend in confusion.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Since when did the cops start delivering medicines to sick hookers? Is this some outreach program that I’ve not heard about?”

Bucky rolled his eyes at his sarcastic friend, “Do you want me to explain or not?”

There was no further comment from Natasha, so Bucky took that to mean that he should continue.

“Now here’s the part I don’t want you to freak out about. Let me explain everything before you interrupt.” He paused for a moment as he looked at his friend. He knew how this was going to sound – absolutely fucking insane – but he just hoped that he could make Natasha understand somehow.

“You remember when I got set up a while ago and got taken down to the police station? Well, the cop that visited me is the same one that set me up. He’s called Detective Rogers. He asked me if I’d help him find out some information about the pimps working round here and I agreed to it,” Bucky stopped speaking, partly to let the information sink in with Natasha, but also to get a drink for his dry throat.

“Fucking hell,” Natasha breathed out. “I can’t believe this. But why did he come round here?”

“He came to check on me. When I didn’t show up at work like normal he thought something had happened to me,” Bucky told her.

“He came to _check_ on you?” Natasha repeated in shock, “What the _hell_?”

Bucky actually felt his cheeks grow a little warm at Natasha’s reaction and for some reason he felt the need to defend Steve’s actions. “It’s just because of all the attacks that have been happening. He wanted to make sure that I was alright.”

Natasha huffed slightly, “Well, as long as that’s _all_ he wants. You can’t trust the fucking cops, James.”

“Steve’s not like the others,” Bucky burst out, then wished he hadn’t when he saw the look on Natasha’s face.

“ _Steve_?” she asked, “Fucking hell, James, you’re on first name terms with the guy? Jesus Christ. Look, what you choose to do is up to you, but I’m just trying to look out for you. All cops are the same. They’re a bunch of hypocritical bastards that’ll use you for what they want then probably throw you in jail the next day. It’s best to stay well clear of them in my opinion. Obviously you’re already in this pretty deep but just be careful, okay? Don’t be too disappointed when he turns out to be just like all the others.”

Bucky felt a sad sense of defeat rush over him. He had known that Natasha wouldn’t be impressed by the idea, but he was still disappointed to hear such a scathing warning. He knew that his friend was only trying to look out for him, but surely she was wrong this time. Steve seemed like such a genuinely nice guy. He had gone out of his way to look out for Bucky: how could he be just like the others?

“I understand what you’re saying, Nat,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you what was going on sooner, I just thought it would be better for you if you didn’t know. I’ll be careful - I always am.”

Natasha smiled at him warmly and patted his arm.

“I’ll always be here for you, James, even if no-one else is.”

With that, she stood up from Bucky’s bed and left the room.

Bucky sat looking at the medicines on his bed. His conversation with Natasha had left him questioning everything that had happened recently, but still part of him refused to believe that Steve was the same as all the other cops he had ever encountered. Everything he had experienced since he had first met Steve pointed to him being the exact opposite of the ‘hypocritical bastards’ that Natasha had talked about. Bucky just hoped that he was right.  


	3. 3

It took a few more days before Bucky felt well enough to go back to work and a few more after that before he actually _went_ back. For some reason that he couldn’t seem to understand, he was very reluctant to return to standing on the street every night. Even after he was feeling better, he kept finding reasons why he should have just one more night off.

After a few nights though, Natasha decided enough was enough and, after a lot of discussion, Bucky eventually found himself back on the street. His less than enthusiastic mood wasn’t improved when he arrived to find that there was no sign of the silver car or Steve. He tried to push the disappointment out of his mind. He told himself that he shouldn’t be surprised, seeing as Steve had probably got fed-up of his nightly vigils after a few uneventful evenings.

Natasha had told Bucky that he would feel like he had never been off ill after a night being back at work and she was right. Bucky found that he slipped back into his routine remarkably easily, even though there was some small doubt constantly gnawing at his mind telling him that he didn’t really want to be there.     

After a few nights, things were completely back to normal. It had been a steady evening and Bucky had just returned from a regular customer to find that Natasha wasn’t in their usual spot. Assuming that she had been picked up by one of her regular johns, Bucky leant against the wall to have a break.

The rest of the night seemed to rush by and Bucky had been with a few more customers, each time returning to find that there was still no sign of his friend. It had been a few hours since Bucky had seen her and he was beginning to get a little worried. It was unusual for them not to cross paths, even on really busy nights.

More time passed and Bucky realised that it was the time that he and Natasha usually started thinking about heading for home. This just wasn’t right; Natasha should be back by now.

Bucky stepped towards the edge of the sidewalk and peered in both directions along the street. There was hardly anyone around and definitely no sign of his friend. He couldn’t just go home though, so he began pacing along the curb in agitation.

He didn’t know what to do for the best; he didn’t want to go home in case Natasha returned and wondered where he was, but he couldn’t exactly start searching for her seeing as he had no idea where she might be or who she had gone with. Bucky shuddered involuntarily at that thought: what if it wasn’t one of her regulars? He stopped pacing and stood very still for a moment, then he began walking quickly along the street in the direction of the parking lot that Steve had taken him to. He couldn’t just stand there doing nothing.

As he swiftly made his way along the street, he saw a woman that he knew walking towards him quickly. When she caught sight of him, she broke into a run in his direction.

“Bucky! Thank God you’re still out,” she called as she got closer.

Bucky knew the woman; she had been friendly with Natasha for a long time and had therefore become a friend of Bucky’s.

On hearing her words, Bucky felt a sense of dread rush over him; he knew that something was terribly wrong.

“Beth, what’s wrong? Is it Natasha?” he asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

The woman was right in front of him now and she swallowed thickly before she replied with a nod, “She’s been attacked.”

Bucky felt like the world had stopped turning for a moment and he struggled to remain calm as he forced himself to ask, “Where is she? How bad is it?”

Beth looked at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know. They took her straight to the hospital. Someone found her in an alleyway and I guess they called for an ambulance.”

Bucky’s distressed mind grasped hold of the fact that if they had taken her to the hospital that meant she was alive.

“Thanks for coming to find me,” he said. “I’m going to go to the hospital to find her. D’you want to come?”

Beth nodded that she would go with Bucky and they began walking quickly in worried silence.

***

“I can’t believe there’s been another one,” Steve growled as he drove his car towards the hospital.

His partner sitting beside him shook his head. “Well, until we get some solid evidence to catch the sick freak there’s going to be more and more. There’s got to be witnesses - if only they’d come forward.”

‘ _There_ are _witnesses, but they’ll never talk to us_ ,’ Steve thought to himself, but he didn’t say anything to his partner. It would cause too many questions that Steve couldn’t answer right now seeing as he hadn’t told anyone about his meetings with Bucky.

Steve’s thoughts drifted to Bucky. He had tried not to think about him, but everything seemed to lead him back to the other man. It seemed that Bucky’s illness had kept him off the streets for a while and Steve had decided to stop his nightly vigils on the street.

Steve had been unnerved by his own reaction to Bucky’s absence. He had been driven to distraction by his concern, and had been undeniably relieved when he had found Bucky safe at his home.

However, his relief had turned to confusion within moments. Why was he so happy to see that Bucky was okay? Why had he gone to the effort of delivering medicines to Bucky’s door? Why was he so disappointed that he hadn’t heard anything from Bucky in the last week or so?

Steve’s grip tightened around the steering wheel as his mind continued calling out questions about his involvement with Bucky.

“Steve? Are you even listening to me?” His thoughts were interrupted by his partner’s insistent voice.   

“What?” he asked suddenly, “Sorry, Sam. I’m just so frustrated by this case. Got a lot of stuff going round in my head.”

His partner nodded in understanding. “Tell me about it. Let’s just hope that this one can give us something useful.”

When Steve and Sam arrived at the hospital, they quickly located the doctor that had dealt with the latest victim to find out the basic information before they went to ask their questions.

The doctor explained that the victim was a female prostitute brought to the hospital in the early hours of the morning. She had been sexually assaulted and beaten but she was conscious and would be able to speak to them.

“ _Able_ to and _willing_ to are two very different things,” Sam muttered as they were led towards a bed surrounded by a curtain.

Steve just nodded grimly at his partner. He knew that they were very unlikely to get anywhere with this prostitute but they had to try.

Steve was struggling to shake the feeling of dread that he had experienced when they entered the hospital. The news of attacks had never unsettled him so much before. He usually dealt with it professionally and kept his emotions out of the case, but upon hearing about the latest attack his mind had immediately thought of Bucky. What if Bucky had returned to work after his illness and was now putting himself in danger every night again? And with Steve no longer keeping watch, what if Bucky became a victim of the attacker? As they approached the curtain, he tried to push the terrible idea away.

The doctor looked over the chart in her hand. “I’ll leave you to speak with her. The patient’s name is Natasha, but as is often the case with sex-workers, that’s all she would give us,” she said, as he grabbed the edge of the curtain and pulled it back far enough to let the detectives walk through.

Steve couldn’t move when he looked through the gap. He had recognised the name the doctor had said but hoped that he was mistaken or that it was simply a horrible coincidence. Now, as he looked at the victim lying on the bed, he knew that there had been no mistake. It wasn’t his worst fear, but he still felt awful when he saw Bucky’s best friend lying there propped up by pillows. Her left eye was swollen shut and she had a split lip but other than that there were no outwardly visible signs of what had happened. Steve knew all to well that the other injuries were hidden.

As he looked Natasha over, he realised that there was someone else beside the bed. Steve’s eyes widened when he looked up and saw Bucky sitting next to his friend, a look of complete shock on his own face.

Steve felt a shove to his back and realised that he still hadn’t moved towards the bed, so he took a few unsteady steps forward.

Sam appeared alongside him looking at his partner in confusion before he began to speak.

“Hello, I’m Detective Sam Wilson and this is my partner Detective Steven Rogers. We’d like to talk to you about what happened to you last night.”

When Sam had introduced them, Natasha had given Bucky a quick knowing look, as if to say, ‘So _this_ is your detective then’ before looking back at Sam. The movement was so slight that Sam didn’t seem to notice it, but Steve did and it suddenly made him feel very exposed.

Natasha looked at Sam steadily.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Shit happens. It’s a hazard of the job,” she said bluntly. Her voice sounded strained and gravelly, but that wasn’t what made Steve wince. It was the way that Natasha seemed so accepting of what had happened, like there was no point trying to fight the inevitable.

Sam sighed quietly. “We believe that the person that attacked you has been involved in a number of attacks against prostitutes in the area. I understand that you don’t want to speak to the police but a statement from you could help us to catch the man responsible for this. It might stop him doing it to someone else.”

Natasha continued to look at him defiantly but didn’t speak.

Steve could see that this wasn’t going to get them anywhere, so he decided to try a different approach. He had been watching Bucky out of the corner of his eye since he had arrived and got over the initial shock of seeing him. He desperately wanted to speak to him alone and hoped that maybe Bucky would be able to persuade Natasha to talk to them.

Bucky had been very quiet the whole time, alternating between looking at his friend and discreetly looking at Steve with slightly wide eyes.

“Could I have a word with you outside?” Steve suddenly asked as he made eye contact with Bucky.

Sam looked totally bewildered by Steve’s actions, but remained where he was to continue trying to persuade Natasha to help them as Steve walked out through the gap in the curtains.

Bucky looked at Natasha for a moment before standing up and following the detective.

Steve led him down the corridor so that they were out of earshot before he turned around and looked Bucky over. “Are you alright, Buck?”

“Well, my best friend is in the hospital after some psycho attacked her so no, not really,” Bucky replied bluntly.

“Sorry,” Steve muttered with a slight shake of his head. “I don’t suppose you are. I just didn’t know what else to say. I was surprised to see you here.”

Bucky nodded as he leant against the wall. “Tell me about it. I really wasn’t expecting you to come walking in.” He yawned suddenly and then ran his fingers through his hair.

“You look exhausted,” Steve said as he watched him.

“I am,” Bucky replied simply. “I came straight here from work so I’ve not had chance to get any sleep yet. Don’t even know if I’d be able to after what’s happened.”

Steve shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he spoke. “I didn’t know that you were back working.”

Bucky felt his cheeks flush with heat.

“Yeah, well I have to pay the rent and eat, you know,” he replied sharply as he pushed himself into a more upright position, not understanding why he felt ashamed of himself or why he felt the need to defend his actions.

“I know, I know,” Steve said as he held up his hands in front of him, sensing that he was treading a fine line with Bucky and knowing that he was risking pissing him off in his current state. He sighed deeply. “Do you think Natasha would help us catch this guy?”

Bucky shook his head slowly. “She doesn’t trust the cops. She would take a lot of persuading.”

Steve looked at Bucky with a small hopeful smile on his face.

It took a moment for Bucky to realise what he was suggesting with that smile. “You want me to try to talk her into it, don’t you?”

Steve smiled a little more, “Would you at least try? I know she’s been through a terrible ordeal, but we all want to stop this son of a bitch before he hurts anyone else. This might be our best chance.”

Bucky looked at him for a long time before he eventually nodded. “I’ll try,” he sighed. “But I’m not promising anything. And you’ll have to get your partner to leave us alone for a bit.”

Steve smiled at him gratefully before they both walked back towards Natasha’s bed.

There had been no progress since they had left Natasha and Sam, so Steve quickly pulled his partner away and left Bucky to it.

“Well that wasn’t too awkward, was it?” Natasha said sarcastically.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “It never even occurred to me that he would come down here to talk to you.”

“I’d say it was pretty obvious that his partner doesn’t know that he’s been meeting up with you. You must be his dirty little secret,” Natasha continued.

Bucky ignored the comment and set about his task. “Look Nat, I know you aren’t going to like this, but Steve has asked if I’ll try to get you to cooperate with them.”

Natasha laughed harshly and winced a little at the same time. “Yeah, I bet he has. I told you, James, they’ll take what they want and then treat us like shit.”

Bucky shook his head defiantly. “Steve’s not like that. He wants to catch this guy as much as we want him off the streets. He’s been looking out for us this whole time. He’s been coming out to the street every night to keep an eye on what’s going on and try to stop the creep.”

Natasha looked at him in disbelief: she clearly thought that Steve had just made it up to convince Bucky. “Has he just told you that?”

“No, I saw him. He was there every night for a while. He gave up his evenings to sit there and try to help us. He’s a _good_ guy,” Bucky told her. “They can’t make any progress with catching whoever’s doing this because no-one will talk to them. You might be able to give them what they need to stop him once and for all.”

Natasha was very still and very quiet for a long time as she thought about what Bucky had said. As much as she hated the police, she couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope brought on by Bucky’s faith in Steve.

“Okay,” she finally agreed with a sigh. “I’ll talk to them.”

Bucky smiled widely at his injured friend. “Thank you, Nat. You’re doing the right thing.”

Natasha huffed out a breath as Bucky disappeared through the curtain.

The two detectives appeared through the curtain, accompanied by Bucky, a few minutes later. Sam looked slightly stunned by the turn of events, but Steve just smiled appreciatively at Natasha. She nodded slightly at Detective Rogers in response.

Steve turned back to Bucky. “Could I speak to you again, please?”

Bucky immediately looked at his friend. “I’ll stay here with you if you want me to.”

Natasha shook her head, “No, it’s fine. I’m sure Detective Wilson and I will be okay. Besides it’s not like I’m telling a bedtime story, you probably don’t want to hear it.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment; he didn’t want to leave Natasha if his friend needed him.

“Honestly, James, it’s okay,” Natasha reassured him, and Bucky followed Steve again.

“Thank you, Bucky,” Steve said as they stopped in the corridor once more.

Bucky just shrugged in response; he didn’t really know what to say for once.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Steve spoke again. “Will you meet up with me again tomorrow?”

Bucky was completely shocked by Steve’s request, they hadn’t been to the diner for a long time and he had nothing to report anyway. It took him a few minutes before he managed to form a response. “I can’t. I need to take care of Nat; I can’t leave her on her own after this.”

“Of course,” Steve replied, “I should have thought about that. How about we leave it a few days then? What about Tuesday?”

Bucky was still struggling to understand why Steve wanted to meet up with him at all. “Alright,” he agreed slowly.

Steve smiled at him, “Tuesday then, usual time. Thank you, Bucky.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what he was being thanked for. He didn’t know whether Steve was still grateful that he had persuaded Natasha, or if the detective was pleased that he had agreed to meet him. He had far too much on his mind to try to understand. He nodded at Steve before heading back towards Natasha’s bed.

***

Tuesday seemed to arrive quickly.

Bucky had hardly left the apartment in the last few days because he was busy taking care of Natasha and now he was actually quite pleased for a change of scene.

As he made his way towards the diner, he was still trying to figure out why Steve wanted to meet with him at all, but he couldn’t deny that he was pleased about the meeting.

Natasha had given him a knowing look and a cheeky smile when Bucky had told her that he was going out. Bucky had rolled his eyes at his friend and made a hasty exit before Natasha could make any comment about where he was going.

On his arrival at the diner, late as usual, Bucky paused for a moment outside the door. A small part of his mind was telling him that he should cut his ties with the detective before he got any more involved, but it was such a small part that it was shouted down by the rest of his mind that was urging him to get inside the place and see Steve.

Inside the diner, Steve was sitting at their usual table waiting.

Bucky made his way over and slid into the seat opposite, smiling slightly in greeting.

“How’s Natasha?” Steve asked immediately.

“She’s actually doing okay,” Bucky replied. “She’s obviously still shaken up by the whole thing but it’ll take more than that to stop her. She’s already talking about getting back to work.”

“ _Really_?” Steve was clearly surprised. “She must be made of tough stuff.”

Bucky shrugged, “I guess we have to be.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Steve didn’t know how to respond to what Bucky had just said.

“So have you got any further with catching the guy then?” Bucky asked eventually.

Grateful for the question that interrupted the silence, Steve replied, “Well using what Natasha told us about him and the DNA samples that we’ve gathered we’re searching the known sex offenders register for a match. If that doesn’t give us anything, we’ll widen the search. At least now we have a rough idea of who we’re actually looking out for.”

Bucky nodded. He knew that such an investigation would take a while but at least he knew that something was being done to try to catch the attacker.

“Natasha’ll be pleased to know that what she gave you was useful,” he said.

“It really has been,” Steve replied. “We wouldn’t have made any progress without her help…and yours.”

Again, awkward silence seemed to descend between them and Bucky couldn’t help but think that Steve wanted to say something more. He waited patiently for him to speak again.

Steve sat chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment until he eventually said, “Bucky…something’s been bothering me since we were at the hospital - something that Natasha said.”

Bucky didn’t speak: he just raised his eyebrows slightly and waited for Steve to continue.

“She said that what happened to her was a ‘hazard of the job’. I know stuff like that does happen, but I was wondering…” he trailed off and stared at Bucky intensely for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, “I was wondering if anything like that has ever happened to you.”

Bucky sat back in his seat as he held eye contact with Steve. Again he wondered why Steve would be so interested but he didn’t see any point in hiding the truth.

“Nothing as bad as what happened to Nat,” he said as he shrugged. “There’s always going to be some guy who thinks he can get something for nothing, or some dickhead who thinks it’s okay to knock you about. I guess you just get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Steve suddenly blurted out.

Bucky’s eyes widened at the outburst; he didn’t know what to think about it.

Steve looked a little embarrassed by what he had just said and quickly asked another question, “So, how did you get into this anyway?”

For once, it was Bucky that was caught off guard by the quick change in the conversation but he smiled at Steve easily. “I left home when I was seventeen and ended up here.”

Steve rolled his eyes and smiled sarcastically. “Wow, thanks for that, Bucky. I feel like I know you so much better now.”

Bucky laughed, “Well you never said you wanted all the gory details.”

Steve was chuckling too as he replied, “Maybe you can leave out the ‘gory’ details, but give me some of the _necessary_ details instead.”

Bucky began to trace the pattern on the table top with his finger: an action that Steve had noticed he always did when he was thinking about something in depth. Steve was pretty sure that Bucky was trying to decide whether or not he was ready to tell him his story. As he watched him closely, Bucky suddenly looked up and their eyes met. They both held the eye contact for a while, then Bucky began to speak.

“I didn’t have the clichéd childhood that you might expect. My family life was happy, I got on well with my parents...” he paused for a moment and took a deep breath, “I was happy until my dad died when I was thirteen. Everything changed then. We were all devastated, my mom was depressed for a while but then she met this new guy, Alex, and suddenly she was okay again. I didn’t like him, and I know it was partly because he wasn’t my dad but it wasn’t just that – he was a creep. Or I thought so anyway. I didn’t like the way he looked at me, right from the start. And he was always treating me like shit when no-one else was around. But my mom thought he was great and it didn’t take long before she moved him in.

“As I got older, I guess I rebelled against him: I went off the rails a bit and there were a lot of rows. I was messing around at school, fucking up my classes, and getting into trouble all the time. And he started knocking me around a bit to keep me in line.

“At first my mom tried to keep the peace, but as time went on I think she started to panic that if he left her she’d be all alone again so she started to side with him. Of course that made things even worse for me - I felt betrayed by my own mom, y’know?

“Anyway, it all came to a head on my seventeenth birthday. There was a huge fight…he beat me pretty bad. Thought he was going to break my left arm that night. Said if I didn’t start doing as I was told, there’d be worse next time. It was awful.

“I knew afterwards that I had to make a choice; pack up my stuff and leave of my own accord or probably be thrown out eventually, or put up with him, thinking he could kick the shit out of me whenever he wanted. So I packed what I wanted and walked out of there. I don’t think they were even bothered that I’d left; I don’t think they looked for me. I crashed at friends’ houses for a while, but their parents didn’t want me permanently moving in, so that didn’t last long.

“Eventually, I found myself sleeping rough. The little money that I had soon ran out and I didn’t stand a chance of getting a job. I saw how other people survived on the streets and I realised that I didn’t have much choice; it was either be a hooker or starve to death.

“The first few times it made me sick, I hated myself for what I was doing, but when you finally get something to eat after days without food it soon makes you forget that. I wasn’t making enough to be able to get a place on my own so I stayed on the streets for a while. I must have been there for about a year when I met Natasha one night. We got to talking and after a while, when she’d warmed up to me, we seemed to get on alright. After a few weeks of hanging out, she told me that her room-mate had moved out so she needed someone to take his place. She asked me if I was interested. When you’ve been sleeping rough, the offer of a roof over your head is the most amazing thing so of course I jumped at the opportunity. I moved in with Nat and I’ve been there ever since.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders and smiled slightly at Steve. “So do you feel like you know me a little better now?” He looked like he was trying to be blasé about what he had just shared, but there was a sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Steve had listened to Bucky’s story intently, never interrupting because he didn’t want Bucky to stop talking now that he had started and also because he didn’t know what to say anyway. He felt so terrible for Bucky that his own family hadn’t protected him, had watched him walk away and left him to live a life that no-one should have to.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, yeah that helps me understand.”

He didn’t know what else to say and he feared the awkward silence would descend again, however Bucky prevented that from happening.

“So, I can’t believe that you asked me here today just to find out my life story. What was the real reason?”

Bucky secretly thought that Steve was going to ask him to start snooping around for information again, so what happened next caught him completely off guard.

Steve reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small, black canister and placed it on the table in front of Bucky. Bucky just looked at it in confusion.

“Pepper spray,” Steve stated simply. “Just in case you ever get into a situation that you can’t get out of.”

Bucky’s heart leapt at Steve’s words and he couldn’t stop the genuine smile that appeared on his face. He was stunned that Steve would be so concerned about him that he would actually give him something to help keep him safe. An unusual warm feeling flooded his entire being. He continued to smile at Steve.

“Thank you,” was all he could manage to say as he picked up the little can and looked at it as though it was some rare, expensive gift.

Steve was smiling at Bucky with a mix of surprise and relief at Bucky’s reaction. He had wondered whether Bucky would be angry that he had given him such a thing but now he could tell that he had done the right thing. Bucky looked genuinely touched by his offering.

“Oh hang on, I nearly forgot,” he said as he reached into his pocket again. He pulled out a second can of pepper spray and handed it to Bucky. When Bucky looked at him questioningly, Steve said, “For Natasha. When she’s ready to get back to work.”

If Steve had thought that Bucky looked pleased before, it was nothing compared to how he smiled at Steve now. Steve returned the smile and couldn’t stop himself thinking how wonderful Bucky looked when he smiled so genuinely.

The two men remained in the booth for a while longer. Bucky decided that it was his turn to find out more about how Steve had ended up as a detective.

Steve seemed happy to share the story of his youth: how his mother had raised him on her own after his father’s death, how money had always been tight, and they’d struggled in their tiny apartment, but he’d never felt like he was missing out. He told Bucky how he’d seen a lot of injustice in the world, even from a young age and had known that he needed to do something about it. He felt such a strong resolve to do the right thing, and help protect the vulnerable people in the world that bullies would happily take advantage of, that becoming a police officer had seemed like an obvious choice for him. As he had swiftly progressed through the ranks, his ultimate goal had been to earn himself a position as a detective in the SHIELD unit. Now he had achieved that, he knew that he could do something that he felt passionately about; he could help the people that needed him.

Bucky had honestly felt a little awed by Steve’s words: how could such a wonderful, genuine person even be real?      

They talked and laughed comfortably for quite some time; both of them suddenly beginning to see the other in a very different light.


	4. 4

It didn’t take long before Natasha decided that she wanted to get back out to work. She had said that she wanted to put the whole terrible experience behind her and had joked about ‘getting back on the horse’ when Bucky had suggested to her that maybe it was still too soon.

In truth, it was actually Bucky that was more reluctant to get back onto the streets. Bucky hadn’t worked since Natasha had been attacked, choosing to stay at their apartment each night and sit with his friend rather than go out to turn tricks.

At first, Natasha had appreciated her friend’s concern but, after a while, she had started to question Bucky about the real reasons that he didn’t want to go out to work.

Everything that Natasha said to him was light-hearted and meant as a joke, but Bucky couldn’t stop himself from getting defensive when Natasha suggested that the real reason he didn’t want to work was because of ‘ _Detective Steve’_.

Natasha’s joking around was accompanied by a genuine warning though. She constantly reminded Bucky that he should be careful around the police officer and not allow himself to get too closely involved.

Natasha knew that she was fighting a losing battle; it was pretty obvious to her that Bucky was falling for the detective and she just hoped that her friend wouldn’t end up getting hurt. She even found herself beginning to believe that Detective Rogers was a decent guy when Bucky returned from his meeting with a dopey, contented smile on his face and two cans of pepper spray in his pocket.

Maybe the detective _was_ different to the others after all, maybe Bucky was right. Natasha decided to reserve her judgement for a later time.  

***

Eventually, the two of them ended up back out working on the streets. The first few evenings dragged for both of them, as Natasha constantly moved agitatedly around the area waiting for regular johns to show up and Bucky paced constantly as he secretly wished _none_ of his regulars would appear.

However, things had to return to normal and Natasha began to gradually regain her confidence. She refused to go with anyone that wasn’t one of the men she had worked for before but that still kept her fairly busy.

Bucky was amazed that _he_ had any regular customers left, after he had been absent from work first through illness, then because he was taking care of Natasha and now he was sure that his lacklustre expression would encourage any johns to drive straight past him. Still, some of his regulars turned up and he half-heartedly dealt with them.

He was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with him; he hadn’t felt this dirty and depraved since he had first started working as a hooker all those years ago.

Deep down, he knew what was causing his attitude, it really was glaringly obvious and he didn’t need Natasha’s constant comments about it to make him see the truth. He was so reluctant to work because of _Steve_. His change in mood had occurred gradually since he had been getting to know the detective and now every time a john pulled up in front of him, his thoughts immediately went to wondering what Steve would think of him.

Part of him was angry that he was allowing himself to be distracted and deterred from his work by the detective, but the rest of him seemed to be consumed with an overwhelming sense of warmth whenever he pictured Steve’s face.

Each time that Bucky got down on his knees before a customer or climbed into a car with someone, he was grateful that Steve was no longer parked somewhere along the street watching him. He didn’t think that he could cope with how filthy and ashamed he would feel.

Of course, Natasha had noticed the change in Bucky. Bucky had always been so confident and self-assured about the services he offered, he had hung around on the street looking so seductive that he practically challenged the customers to be able to drive by. Now he seemed much more content to hang back further in the shadows of the buildings, almost like he hoped that no-one would notice him. His confident swagger as he approached the vehicles was replaced by his feet dragging across the concrete as he plastered a less than convincing smile on his face.

Natasha knew that Bucky’s heart wasn’t in his work anymore; his heart was far too busy dreaming of Detective Rogers.

***

It had been several weeks since Steve had driven to the street and parked up to ‘observe’ the comings and goings of the prostitutes and their tricks. That was the reason he had given himself for the visits. For a long time he had pushed down the part of his brain that kept telling him that he was only going there to check up on Bucky.

Tonight he didn’t even bother telling himself any excuses as to why he was there. It was pretty obvious – he wanted to see Bucky. He was sure that Bucky and Natasha would have returned to work by now, so he drove along and parked his car up for the evening. He had decided that it might be best if he parked further away from the usual spot so his car now faced the area where Bucky and Natasha worked but was much further along the street.

He could still clearly make out the two figures of Bucky and Natasha. Natasha was standing near the edge of the road, while Bucky leant against the building.

Steve settled back in his seat to watch. He took a sip from the paper coffee cup that he had collected on his way over and wondered exactly what he was watching for.

It didn’t take long before a car pulled up in front of the two prostitutes. Natasha leant down to speak to the occupant and then turned and waved her hand at her friend. Bucky traipsed out from the shadows of the building slowly and got into the car. Without realising it, Steve had leant right forward in his seat and was staring intently at the car as it drove off.

As soon as he had seen Bucky making his way towards the vehicle, he had wanted to jump out of his own car and shout for him to stop. As the car disappeared down the street, Steve wondered what had stopped him. The thought of Bucky being touched by some disgusting creep made his skin crawl. His hands tightened around the steering wheel and his knuckles turned white as he felt his heart rate increasing.

He wondered if Bucky had his pepper spray with him and then smiled softly to himself as he recalled the look on Bucky’s face when he had given it to him.

He breathed deeply to calm the rage that was building inside him. He remained leaning forward in his seat for some time. He kept checking his watch and just when he was wondering if Bucky had been gone for too long he saw the car coming back down the street. It pulled up and Bucky slid out. He walked back towards the building and leant against the wall once more.

Steve exhaled heavily before he leant back in his seat, finally feeling like he could relax a little.

A little later another car pulled up. Again Steve leant forward. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to control himself this time and was beginning to think that coming down here tonight was a bad idea.

Bucky was still standing in the shadows as Natasha spoke to the driver of the vehicle. This time, Natasha opened the car door but, just as she was about to step in, Bucky came forwards from his position quickly. Natasha hesitated by the car as the two held a quick conversation.

There was no way that Steve could have worked out what they were saying, he was far too far away to overhear or even lip-read. Eventually, Natasha slid her slender frame into the car and Bucky returned to leaning against the wall.

Steve desperately wanted to drive up to where Bucky was standing and speak to him but he shook his head at his own foolishness. He could just imagine the reaction he would receive.

Another fifteen minutes went by before a car pulled up and Bucky stepped out of the shadows. He moved towards the car, leant down to speak to whoever was inside and then, to Steve’s complete surprise, the car drove off.

Bucky thrust his hands into his pockets and began walking away from his spot.

Steve watched in confusion. Had Bucky just arranged to meet the person in the car elsewhere? It didn’t seem very likely seeing as the car had gone in the opposite direction of where Bucky was now walking.

Suddenly it dawned on Steve that Bucky was walking in _his_ direction. He didn’t know what to do, if he started the engine to drive away now Bucky would almost definitely notice him, but if he remained sitting where he was, he was bound to get spotted anyway.

Bucky continued his walk completely obliviously and just as Steve was about to slide down in his seat, Bucky veered off the main street and headed down an alleyway. Now that Bucky was out of sight, Steve started the car and slowly drove round the corner. He supposed he didn’t look that out of place as his car crawled along the street. He stopped when he realised that he had found the exit of the alleyway that Bucky had used and peered down the dark walkway. There was no sign of Bucky so Steve looked along the street. Not far away a figure was walking along, hands in pockets, unaware that he was being followed.

It soon became clear to Steve where Bucky was heading and he breathed a sigh of relief and allowed himself a small smile. Bucky had gone back to his apartment.

When he saw Bucky enter his building, he decided to park his car further down the street and wait to see if Bucky re-emerged.

The rest of the night seemed to go by quickly and Steve was undeniably pleased to find that Bucky didn’t go back to work. Much later, he had to sink down in his seat quickly when he saw Natasha accompanied by a woman, that he assumed was another prostitute, making their way back towards the apartments. The two exchanged a quick goodbye and Natasha waited as the other woman let herself into a building slightly further along before she entered her own building and closed the door.

Steve didn’t move from his position for a long time. He was trying to figure out what had happened. He was delighted to know that Bucky had given up work early for the night, but he had no idea why. It didn’t really matter too much. He was just glad that he didn’t have to witness Bucky going off with anyone else.

***

Nearly two weeks later, Steve was working in his office. He was still busy with his investigations into the pimps working the local area, but that had been put on the back-burner recently as he desperately tried to track down the attacker that had been stalking the streets recently.

He had piles of paperwork all over his desk and he was in the process of trying to organise the mess. As he shuffled through the paperwork, he yawned widely and stopped to rub his tired eyes. He was exhausted: work was manic and he was under a lot of pressure from his senior officers to make some headway with the two cases he was juggling.

In addition, he had spent several of the evenings when he wasn’t on duty driving around the street to keep an eye on Bucky. However, he had soon quit that plan when he had realised that Bucky didn’t seem to be going out to work anymore; at least Steve assumed that, because he never saw him standing on the street waiting for business. That was the one thing that cheered Steve up and it meant that he could attempt to get some decent sleep on his nights off.

He reached for his mug of coffee, took a sip and pulled a distasteful face as he realised that it had gone cold. He stood up and stretched. He’d have to get another mug seeing as he was sure that coffee was all that was keeping him going.

As he made his way towards the door of his office, his partner, Sam, appeared in the doorway.

“There’s been another one,” he said grimly.

Steve didn’t need any clarification about what that meant. His heart sank upon hearing Sam’s words. He turned round and grabbed his suit jacket from the coat stand near the door.

“Hospital?” he asked as he slipped his jacket on.

Sam shook his head bleakly, “Morgue.”

Steve froze in his actions as he looked at his partner. Another death was the worst possible news. He had hoped that the first two murders had been the result of the attacker getting carried away seeing as none of the other attacks had resulted in death. Now he knew he was wrong; it had been a very thin hope to hold on to anyway.

Steve rubbed his forehead and sighed in frustration as he followed Sam out of the office.

***

Bucky couldn’t believe he was actually doing something so insane. He hadn’t told Natasha what he was planning because he knew his friend would freak out – ‘ _That would be the reaction of most hookers though_ ,’ Bucky told himself as he looked at the imposing building before him. He hadn’t been here in a long time; in fact the last time had been when he had been arrested and first met Steve. This time he found himself voluntarily entering the police station to speak to the same man.

When Bucky had heard about the most recent attack, he had decided he had to speak to the detective face to face. He had called Steve to try to arrange a meeting but he got no answer so, for some reason that he didn’t understand now that he was actually here, he had decided to go down to the station. He stared at the building for a while before he swallowed thickly and entered.

As soon as he walked into the place, he thought everyone would stare at him, knowing that he was a hooker, but the reception area was so busy that no-one seemed to look his way.

He went to the main desk and asked where he could find Detective Rogers. A rather fraught looking middle-aged woman gave him directions and then went back to her duties.

Bucky decided to use the stairs rather than the lift for fear of being trapped in a small space with a police officer that might realise who he was, so after he made his way up several flights of stairs he found himself on the fifth floor. It was slightly calmer here but still people were scurrying about busily.

Bucky followed the directions the receptionist had given him and eventually found himself outside a door with Steve’s name on. He knocked on the closed door and waited. “Come in,” he heard called from inside so he pushed the door open. He loitered in the open doorway until Steve looked up from his desk and realised he was there.

“Bucky!” Steve said brightly. He was clearly surprised to see him at the police station. “What are you doing here?” He had stood up from his seat and walked around the desk. He walked towards Bucky, pushed the door closed and gestured that Bucky should take a seat. The smile on his face showed that although he was shocked, he was also pleased to see his visitor.

Bucky sat down in a chair as Steve leant back against his desk in front of him.

“I came to talk to you about the attacks. You know there’s been another one?”

Steve nodded grimly. “Of course. We’re doing what we can, Bucky, I promise.”

“Yeah, well it’s getting worse. The guy was killed this time.” Bucky couldn’t hide how worried he was about the situation.

“I know,” Steve snapped, harsher than he had intended. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. We’re trying to catch him, but there are a lot of possible suspects out there and we’re not exactly drowning in evidence.”

Bucky stared at him resolutely. “There must be _something_ you can do.”

Steve laughed bitterly as he pushed away from his desk and walked round it. He began grabbing at the piles of papers and piling them up on the other side of the desk: it was a pointless exercise but he felt so frustrated that he had to do something.

Bucky could sense Steve’s irritation, but wasn’t going to give up. He had willingly come down here to the police station and he wasn’t going to leave without feeling better about the situation.

“What would you like us to do? We’re the police, Bucky. We’re not fucking magicians. We can’t wave a magic wand and catch the guy just because you want us to,” Steve said tensely.

Bucky should have known in that moment that things were not going to work out well. He had hardly ever heard Steve swear before and he could tell that the detective was reaching the end of his patience.

“Maybe you could set up some sort of patrol around the area. Maybe, like, plain-clothed officers or something,” Bucky suggested.

Steve laughed harshly again. “Yeah, right. If I go to my senior officers and suggest that we waste valuable officers to protect a bunch of whores, they’ll laugh in my face.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Steve wished he could take them back. He looked up from the papers in his hand and saw the look of hurt flash across Bucky’s face.

“Bucky…” he started but Bucky pushed himself out of his chair quickly and cut him off.

“Don’t…I’m glad I understand how you really feel now. I won’t waste anymore of your _valuable_ time,” he snapped, before he turned and stormed out of Steve’s office, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Steve was left staring at the spot where Bucky had been moments before. He couldn’t exactly run after Bucky through the station. Besides, what the hell did Bucky want him to say? He was doing his best. He growled angrily in frustration as he threw the papers in his hand against the wall and sank into his chair.

***

Bucky had stomped out of the police station much faster than he had entered it. He was so angry and so hurt. Steve’s comment had cut him deeply and he wanted to get away from the place as fast as he could.

Even as he stormed along the street, he hoped that Steve might come running after him and apologise, but then he cursed himself for being so stupid and thinking that Steve would actually care enough to do that.

He had been such a fool. How had he allowed himself to believe that Steve was any different to all the other cops? Steve obviously viewed the hookers, including Bucky, with the same disdain that all the other police officers did. He obviously thought that they were worthless and that they didn’t deserve help, in fact he probably thought that they were getting what they deserved when they were attacked on the streets.

Part of Bucky was telling himself that he was wrong, that Steve _was_ a decent guy and that he hadn’t meant what he’d said to sound so harsh. Part of him was desperately trying to remind him of all the caring things that Steve had done since he’d met him, but Bucky was so angry that he couldn’t see past how Steve had reacted moments ago.

Bucky felt like an idiot. Hadn’t Natasha warned him that they were all the same? She’d told him not to get too close to Steve and now look what had happened.

He didn’t go home; instead he stomped to a nearby park and threw himself down onto a bench. He sat there for a long time going over and over what had happened. He kept replaying Steve’s words in his mind and the more he heard them the angrier he became.

It was getting late when Bucky decided to move. He pushed away from the bench and set off stomping along again. He wasn’t heading back to the apartment; he was heading to the street. He hadn’t worked in nearly two weeks. He had been getting by on the little money that he had saved up for emergencies. But now he reasoned that there was no point in him not working. He hadn’t been turning tricks because of Steve and now he had realised that Steve didn’t care about him, he had no reason to stay away.

Natasha was more than a little surprised when Bucky showed up beside her in their usual spot.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she smiled in confusion.

“Working,” Bucky replied bluntly.

Natasha continued to stare at him, “ _Why_?”

“Well, I’m a _whore,_ aren’t I? I suppose I should be _whoring_ myself out,” Bucky said bitterly, refusing to meet Natasha’s eyes.

Natasha raised her eyebrows, “What’s wrong, James? I didn’t think you wanted to do this anymore.”

Bucky finally looked at his friend, “You were right, Nat.”

Natasha shook her head in uncertainty; she didn’t know what she was right about.

“About Steve. You said he’d be just like the rest of them and you were right,” Bucky told her.

Natasha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Surely Bucky couldn’t be talking about the same man that he had spoken so fondly about. Even Natasha had begun to warm to the detective. “What’s happened?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Bucky said quietly. “He’s an asshole and, right now, I don’t even want to think about him. It’s time I got back to normal.”

Natasha suddenly realised how upset Bucky looked and she decided it was best not to push the conversation. She wrapped her arm around Bucky’s waist. “You’ve always got me. I’m sure that makes you feel loads better.”

Bucky smiled weakly at Natasha’s attempt at cheering him up. Right now, he wasn’t sure that anything would make him feel better.

It wasn’t long before a car pulled up in front of Bucky and Natasha. Immediately, Natasha knew that it was one of her regulars but she hung back next to Bucky.

“James, if you’d rather we just went home and talked about what’s happened, I don’t mind,” she said as she smiled gently at her friend.

Bucky shook his head and tried to look like he was fine, “Nah. Don’t worry about me. It’s like you said, ‘I’ve gotta get back on the horse’. I’ll be okay.”

Natasha looked at him for a long moment as though deciding whether he really was okay to be left, then, still with a small frown on her face, she nodded slightly before getting into the car.

Bucky felt his shoulders sag as soon as the car disappeared down the street. What was he _doing_? He didn’t want to be here – not really.

He was debating whether or not he should just head for home when a car pulled up beside him. It wasn’t a car that Bucky recognised but he knew that most of his regulars had probably given up on him by now. He was going to have to start from scratch, building up his regular customers again if he was really going to get back into this job. That thought suddenly made him feel a swell of resentment towards Steve and he held onto that as he leant down to speak with the driver of the car.

He was a smart enough looking guy, probably late-forties, well-built, but most importantly he looked clean. Bucky actually felt quite satisfied as he slid into the passenger seat.

“Do you know where you’re going?” he asked as he looked the man over.

“Yeah, I know a place,” the stranger replied as he smiled at Bucky.

Bucky settled back in his seat and gave himself a quick mental pep-talk: he could do this. He _could_.

A little further along the street, the man pulled over and stopped the car. He then climbed out and walked to a dimly lit alleyway.

Bucky followed him.

He stood in front of the man and raised his eyebrow in a way that he hoped came across as confidently, but internally he was questioning why he was standing there at all. It seemed like a long time since he’d taken part in this performance and he realised that he hadn’t missed it at all.

“What’ll it be?” he asked, trying to get his head back in the game.

“I want to fuck you,” the man growled as he abruptly grabbed Bucky’s shoulders and pushed him back towards the wall. Immediately, he began pulling Bucky’s denim jacket down his arms.

“It’s a hundred for a fuck,” Bucky told him, as he wriggled slightly uncomfortably. “I need to see the money.”

“You’ll get what’s coming to you,” the man said, continuing to work Bucky’s jacket down his arms.

Bucky pushed back against him as best as he could with his arms now restrained. “Money first,” he insisted through gritted teeth.

He didn’t like this guy; he didn’t like this whole situation. The doubts were swirling around his head, his skin was crawling, and he was seriously considering just walking away before things went too far.

The man looked at Bucky through narrowed eyes and licked his lips. Then, from out of nowhere, he punched Bucky hard in the face. Bucky had no defence as his arms were trapped by his sides by his jacket and his head snapped to the side sharply.

Before he had even had chance to straighten back up, the man pushed him to the floor and managed to pull the jacket off him and throw it to the side.

“I told you, you’ll get what’s coming to you,” he snarled.

‘ _Fuck, fuck, fuck; you are so dead_ ,’ Bucky’s mind was screaming at him.

His arms were free from the jacket now though, so he lashed out wildly at the man that was now straddling him. He managed to hit the guy in the face and he struggled to push himself upright.

The man grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down again.

“You fucking slut, this is what you want, why bother fighting it? It’s what you deserve like all the others.”

Several blows landed on Bucky’s face and he could taste the bitter tang of blood in his mouth, but still he struggled against the man. He was on his back with his attacker sitting on top of him. He was already struggling to breathe when he felt a large hand wrap around his neck and start to squeeze.

He became aware that the man’s other hand was fumbling at the fastenings on his jeans and he squeezed his eyes shut. His right arm was desperately scratching at the man’s hand around his neck, trying to break his hold, but his left hand was reaching out blindly feeling for the material of his jacket. Frantically, he patted the ground, until his fingers brushed against the fabric. He tugged it towards himself and, without being able to see anything and with breathing becoming more difficult by the second, he felt around until his fingers closed around a small cylindrical object. Within seconds, he managed to pull it from the pocket of his jacket and pop the lid off the canister of pepper spray with his thumb. Then he moved his hand so that it was close to his attacker’s face and pressed the spray with his thumb.

The man screamed out in shock and pain, and fell backwards away from Bucky, clawing at his eyes. Unfortunately, using the spray in such close proximity meant that some of it ended up in Bucky’s own eyes, but at that moment he didn’t care. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could and began trying to move towards the entrance of the alleyway.

He could hardly see, he was gasping for air to reach his lungs and his head was pounding, but he forced himself to move. If he stopped now, he would probably die. He had nearly made it to the end of the alleyway when he felt a hand twist in his hair and pull him backwards sharply. He yelled out as yet more pain shot through his head.

The next thing he knew, he was being slammed into the wall. His head bounced sickeningly off the bricks and he fell to the floor.

Through blurry eyes, he could make out the figure of the man still rubbing at his eyes furiously before he brutally kicked Bucky twice in the stomach, spat at him and staggered back towards his car.

It was over. As Bucky lay on the floor of the cold alley, he could feel warmth dribbling down his neck. He knew it was his own blood but he couldn’t move. The pain in his head was unbearable. His vision was becoming darker. It was over. The only comfort he had was knowing that he hadn’t gone down without a fight. At least he had given that sick bastard something to remember him by. He couldn’t hold his eyes open anymore, everything hurt too much. It was over.                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*


	5. 5

Steve was in a less than radiant mood. The incident with Bucky from the previous afternoon had resulted in a night of angrily tossing and turning and getting very little sleep.

His initial thought on the situation had been that Bucky had over-reacted to what he had said in his office, but the more he had gone over the conversation, the more he had regretted the things he had said and his unfortunate choice of words. He had never intended to upset Bucky; he was just so stressed at work and unfortunately Bucky had been there at the wrong moment so had been on the receiving end of his frustration.

Steve had considered going round to Bucky’s apartment to apologise when he left work. But then he had decided that it would probably be better to give Bucky some space to calm down; as much as he wanted to say sorry, he didn’t feel like being yelled at and having a door slammed in his face.

So as his shift ended, he had wearily driven home and replayed the conversation over and over in his head. The more he thought about it, the more he realised why Bucky had stormed out of his office. He had never spoken to him so harshly before. He liked to think that he had never treated Bucky like a prostitute before, but now he felt like he had let him down. He winced as he recalled how he had snapped at Bucky and silently berated himself for the way his words must have made the other man feel. Even in his own mind, the words sounded heartless and cruel, like he didn’t care about Bucky or any of the other prostitutes, so he could only imagine how hurt Bucky would feel upon hearing them.  

All evening he wondered whether he should go to find Bucky, but he talked himself out of it. Maybe he was afraid that Bucky would say he never wanted to see him again. He couldn’t imagine a worse punishment than Bucky cutting all ties with him.

His night had been terrible; he picked at his dinner, eventually giving up and throwing most of it in the bin, then he tried to get his head around some case details that he had brought home, but couldn’t focus on what he was reading.

It was late when he finally went up to bed but, even there, he got no respite. He stared at the ceiling for hours, he threw himself around trying to get comfortable, he growled in frustration as he got tangled up in the covers and at some point in the early hours of the morning he gave up trying to sleep. He had only managed to drift off for a few hours but he knew it was a waste of time trying anymore. He dragged himself out of his messed up bed and decided to go for a run instead. Then he returned, got showered and dressed and headed into work early to try to make some headway on his cases.

Steve’s mood had already been dark, but it had been made positively black when Sam had appeared at his door and told him that there had been another attack.

Steve had been stunned to hear the news. There was usually quite a gap between the timings of the attacks, but this one had come so suddenly after the previous one. Maybe the attacker was getting more confident seeing as the police weren’t getting any closer to catching him. Steve shuddered at the thought. The idea that such a man was becoming even more active didn’t bear thinking about.

There was a frown fixed to Steve’s face as he followed Sam down to the garage to drive to the hospital to see the latest victim. On the way, he made up his mind that he would go to visit Bucky during his lunch break. He knew that he was going to have to apologise and he wasn’t willing to wait any longer than he had to now. He kept telling himself that he should have gone last night, but there was no point dwelling on what he should or could have done differently.

When the two detectives arrived at the hospital, they immediately located the doctor that had treated the latest victim.

“He’s in a bad way,” the doctor told them sombrely. “He’s been severely beaten and has a concussion. He’s in and out of consciousness. There is some good news though; he hasn’t been sexually assaulted.”

Steve and Sam nodded grimly at the news. It was a small comfort but certainly an interesting twist on the usual nature of the attacks. It would be useful to find out what had made this attack different to the others.

“He’s probably asleep now, but you can take a look in if you like,” the doctor told them. She pointed to the curtained area that shielded the victim from view and left them to it.

The two detectives made their way towards the curtains and Sam pulled them apart. Both of them stepped forward into the area, but Steve immediately staggered to an abrupt halt. He gasped quietly as he realised who was lying in the hospital bed. It had taken a moment for him to realise that it was Bucky but, once he did, he felt the bile rise up inside him.

Bucky was hardly recognisable; his dark brown hair was mostly covered by a white bandage that tightly encircled his head, angry black bruises marred both sides of his face, his bottom lip was swollen and split, and his skin was a sickly pale shade.

Steve took a hesitant step towards the bed to closer examine him. He desperately wanted to touch Bucky’s arm just to let him know that he was there, but as he took another step he was snapped from the moment by Sam’s voice.

“Well, I guess there’s nothing we can do ‘til he wakes up, so let’s go wait outside, shall we.”

Steve spun round to look at his partner, but Sam was already walking out between the curtains. It was probably a good thing that Sam hadn’t caught sight of Steve’s face at that moment because there was no way that he could have hidden the look of absolute horror that he wore.

With one last pained look at the injured figure on the bed, Steve followed his partner silently.

He couldn’t name the emotions that were flooding through him. He felt wretched. He felt like he needed to be sick. He was so angry that he wanted to punch the nearest wall. The thought that some sick bastard had done this to Bucky filled him with rage. And there, lingering in the background, was a feeling of terrible guilt. If he had gone to find Bucky last night, this might not have happened: if he hadn’t said those things to Bucky and upset him, this might not have happened.

“ _You_! You’ve got a fucking nerve showing your face here!”

Steve was shaken from his agonizing thoughts by a voice shouting at him.

“I hope you know that this is all your fault! He was only out there because of _you_!”

Then Sam’s voice cut in. “You need to calm yourself down unless you want to get yourself arrested.”

Steve watched in a daze as Sam stood before him blocking an irate Natasha, who was still yelling at him and jabbing her finger towards him angrily.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say quietly. “I didn’t know that this would happen.”

Sam looked at him sharply in confusion.

Natasha suddenly seemed a lot calmer. “He hadn’t worked in weeks because of you. Then you upset him and he’s back on the street and just _look_ what’s happened. He could have been killed…he nearly was.”

Steve flinched at hearing that. He didn’t know what he could say to Bucky’s best friend who was clearly so distressed by the situation.

“I suggest you go and sit with your friend,” Sam said to Natasha. He turned towards Steve, “You and I need to go have a chat”

Steve nodded slowly. He looked at Natasha sadly before following his partner to an empty room down the hall.

“What the _hell_ was that all about?” Sam demanded as soon as the door was closed. “And don’t give me any bullshit, Steve. Something’s been weird with you for weeks and it’s time you told me the truth.”

Steve sighed deeply as he sat down on the edge of the windowsill. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and ran his hand through his hair before looking up at his partner.

“I know the prostitute that’s been attacked. His name is Bucky. He’s been helping me – getting information for me to help with the case.”

Sam looked at him steadily, “Okay, so why was that woman freaking out so much just now?”

Steve sighed again, “I guess…well…me and Bucky…we’ve been getting to know one another better.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve, have you been _fucking_ him?” Sam exploded.

“No!” Steve immediately responded, “Christ…nothing like that. We’ve been meeting up. At first it was just for him to give me information that he had found out, but recently it’s been…I don’t know what it’s been. It’s been different.”

It was Sam’s turn to sigh as he sat down on the empty bed in the room. “So, it’s become more than a professional relationship then?”

Steve hesitated slightly. “Yes,” he slowly admitted. “Nothing’s happened like _that._ But yes, it’s developed into something else…I like him. I feel more for him than I probably should.” He felt an odd sense of release to finally say it out loud even though it could cost him dearly.

“Shit, Steve,” Sam breathed. “You know I should report this to the chief? You shouldn’t be on this case.”

“I know, Sam. But please, please don’t. I need to do this. I need to catch the bastard that’s done this and not just because of how I feel about Bucky. Please don’t tell anyone, not yet anyway. When it’s done you can report me, but just…not yet.”

“I said I ‘ _should’_ report you, not that I was going to,” Sam smiled slightly at his partner. “You’ve been my friend for years. You’ve stuck by me through everything and I’ll stick by you through this, even if I do think you’re fucking insane.”

Steve actually let out a small, watery laugh at his friend’s comment, “Thanks man. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well just be careful, okay?” Sam told him. “You better take a minute to calm down, you look like you’re about to puke. I’ll go and speak to the doctor and find out if there’s any point in us hanging around.”

Sam walked out of the room and left Steve to regain his composure. There was no way that he was going to be able to rein in the anger and upset that he felt about what had happened, but at least he could take a moment to calm down in private. Natasha had blamed him for what had happened. She had said that Bucky was only working because of what Steve had done. The thought of that made Steve hate himself. How was he ever going to make things alright with Bucky now?

Sam returned after a few minutes to tell him that the doctor had said that they should come back later when Bucky had had more time to rest and hopefully then he would be able to speak to them.

Steve simultaneously dreaded and looked forward to returning. He was desperate to know exactly what had happened to Bucky but at the same time he didn’t want to hear that story. He was also afraid of how Bucky would react to seeing him but he knew he had to face it. He felt like he deserved whatever was coming to him.

***

Several hours later the two detectives arrived back at the hospital.

Sam had asked Steve constantly whether he really wanted to be there whilst Bucky was interviewed and Steve had resolutely said that he had to be. As they approached the curtain for the second time that day, Steve took a deep breath and prepared himself for seeing Bucky in such a state again. Sam pulled back the screen and they both stepped forward.

Bucky was propped up in his bed now and he was awake. He turned to look at the two new arrivals, blinking slowly at them, but no shock at seeing Steve registered on his face.

‘ _Natasha must have told him that we were here earlier_ ,’ Steve thought to himself. Steve struggled to look at Bucky; he was still finding it hard to deal with seeing him so badly beaten. Glancing around the room to try to look anywhere else for a moment, his eyes landed on Natasha who was glaring at him with obvious mistrust. Her arms were folded across her chest as she scowled at him. He half expected Bucky’s best friend to start yelling at him again so he was surprised when he received nothing but an angry glare to let him know what Natasha was thinking.

Finally, Steve looked back at Bucky. It was difficult to see the person that Steve had grown to care for behind all the bruises and bandages. Bucky looked exhausted and defeated. Lying in that hospital bed he had none of the confidence or bravado that Steve was used to seeing.

There was silence for a while, as everyone in the room seemed to sense the tension, before Sam finally spoke.

“James, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Detective Sam Wilson and you already know Steve.”

At those words, some minute flash of surprise flickered in Bucky’s eyes before he continued to listen to Sam speaking.

“We were hoping that you would talk to us about what happened to you last night.”

Bucky looked at Sam steadily for a moment. Even after what had happened with Steve he was willing to help them, besides he didn’t have the energy to argue with them. “Sure,” he said quietly.

Both Sam and Steve were surprised by Bucky’s easy agreement. They had been sure that they would encounter some resistance especially after what had gone on between Bucky and Steve the previous day.

“Oh okay, well, thank you, James. If you’d just like to start at the beginning and just tell us as much as you can about what happened. If you need to take a break, just let us know,” Sam said as he took out a small voice recorder from his jacket pocket and took a step closer.

Bucky licked his dry lips slowly and carefully. He winced when his tongue grazed the cut on his lower lip, but then he began to speak.

He described his evening, leaving out the reasons why he had chosen to go back to work. Steve was relieved to hear that the attacker was the first customer that Bucky had encountered that evening, but he found himself clenching his fists as Bucky explained how the man had picked him up and taken him to the alley. His fingernails dug into his palms painfully when Bucky began to recount how the man had hit him and assaulted him.

“I managed to get him off me and tried to get to the end of the alley,” Bucky said hoarsely.

Sam looked a little puzzled at that point. From what Bucky had said so far, his attacker had been in complete control of the situation, dominating Bucky and keeping him down on the ground. “How did you manage to get him off you?” he asked.

Bucky’s eyes flicked towards Steve momentarily, he took a deep breath and then answered, “I had some pepper spray in my jacket pocket. I managed to reach it and spray it in his face.”

Steve’s eyes widened. The terrible thought that if he hadn’t given Bucky that canister he might have ended up raped or dead flashed into his mind. It was too awful to imagine. At first Sam wondered how Bucky had come to have pepper spray but he soon realised as he looked between his partner and Bucky.

The interview continued until Bucky had nothing else to tell them. It had been one of the worst recounts that Steve had ever listened to. All he wanted to do was sit with Bucky and apologise but he knew that wasn’t an option right now.

Sam was all professional, thanking Bucky for his help and wishing him a speedy recovery. He turned to Steve and raised his eyebrows as if saying ‘ _it’s time to go’_. Steve realised that he hadn’t actually spoken the whole time he had been near Bucky. He didn’t know what to say. How could he find the words to make it up to Bucky? He opened his mouth as though he was about to speak, but then closed it again.

Natasha was still glaring at him with her arms still folded across her chest. Bucky didn’t look up at him; he just stared at his hands in his lap.

Steve shook his head sadly and walked through the curtains.

***

Steve had another restless night and the reason for it was obvious. He had never felt so terrible in all his life. He blamed himself for what had happened and the guilt was torturing him. In addition to that, he was now even more determined to catch the man responsible for the attacks.

When he arrived at work, early again, he threw himself into the case. He went over the limited evidence they had and added Bucky’s statement to it. He spent hours organising what they had and cross-referencing the details with any other attacks that had occurred recently or in nearby areas.

After several hours, he felt like he was making good progress and was pleased to be doing something constructive.

However, he still had his biggest challenge ahead of him. He had decided that he was going to the hospital when his shift ended to speak to Bucky. He couldn’t leave it. He had to say his piece and if Bucky told him to ‘ _fuck off’_ he would have to accept it but at least he would have tried. He couldn’t imagine not having Bucky in his life anymore but after what had happened he knew he would have to respect the other man’s wishes. He wouldn’t have blamed Bucky if he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. He just hoped he could prove to him how sorry he was and rescue their relationship, because he knew that he wasn’t ready to let Bucky go.

***

As Steve made his way along the corridor in the hospital, he found that he was psyching himself up for the task. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so worried about something. Maybe that was because nothing had mattered to him as much as this in a long time.

When he reached the curtain surrounding Bucky’s bed, he paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, before reaching forward and pulling the curtains apart slightly. As he stepped through the gap, he immediately saw that Bucky was out of his bed and fully dressed. He had his back to Steve as he focused on something on his hospital bed.

“Bucky? What are you doing up?”

Steve realised that he should have given Bucky some indication of his presence when the other man jumped visibly at the sound of Steve’s voice behind him. He turned quickly to face Steve but then wobbled slightly. Instinctively, Steve moved forwards to support him but Bucky flinched away from him, choosing to lean against the bed instead.

When Bucky had regained his balance, he stared at Steve blankly for a moment before he lowered his eyes. “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

Everything that Steve had rehearsed in the car on the way to the hospital had been forgotten as soon as he had laid eyes on Bucky. He stumbled over his words as he tried to find the right thing to say. “I wanted to…well I didn’t get chance to talk to you before and…I had to come and see you.”

Bucky didn’t show any sign of being grateful for Steve’s visit; he didn’t even lift his eyes to Steve’s face again. Instead he turned back to the bed and carried on with what he was doing.

Steve wasn’t willing to be ignored though so he moved around to the opposite side of the bed. As soon as he faced Bucky, he realised what he was doing. He had an old backpack in-front of him on the bed and he was putting a set of dirty clothes into the bag.

“What’s going on, Bucky? Why are you out of bed?” Steve asked.

“I’m leaving,” Bucky replied simply.

“ _Leaving_?” Steve echoed in shock. “You hardly look like you should be going anywhere.”

Bucky looked up at him sharply. “Yeah, well the doctor said I was well enough to leave. Besides, I don’t suppose they want some _whore_ taking up a valuable bed.”

That stung. Steve knew he had that comment coming. He wasn’t going to be pushed away though and he took his opportunity to apologise. “Bucky, I’m so sorry about what I said the other day. I never meant to hurt you. It was just a stupid comment that slipped out before my mouth had chance to catch up to my brain. I understand if you don’t want to see me again but I had to tell you that I was sorry. I had to come and see you, not just as a cop but as someone who _cares_ about you.”

For the first time, Steve didn’t feel uncomfortable about showing that he cared for Bucky. He stopped talking and waited for the angry tirade that he had been expecting from Bucky since he had first arrived.

Surprisingly enough, Bucky didn’t shout; he didn’t even speak. He just looked at Steve in disbelief. He was struggling to take in what Steve had just said. He blinked rapidly a few times before he picked the bag up off the bed.

“What you said in your office…” he trailed off and didn’t seem to know how to finish the sentence. He looked as though he was about to admit something before he cleared his throat and continued, “I appreciate you coming down here. You didn’t have to.” He paused and stared at Steve for a moment before looking down at his feet. “I have to get going. I’ll maybe see you around.” With that he began moving past Steve and out into the corridor.

Steve remained where he was for a moment. He was stunned. Anger was what he had been expecting but instead he had been met by, well he wasn’t entirely sure what he had been met by. Was it forgiveness, or acceptance of the situation? He shook his head and followed Bucky out into the hallway. He caught up and walked alongside him. It was slow progress seeing as Bucky was limping along and struggling to walk in a straight line.

Steve received an almost wary look as he asked, “Where are you going?”

Bucky raised his eyebrows as he replied simply, “Home.”

“How are you going to get home?” Steve continued questioning him.

Bucky seemed to be intensely focused on walking down the corridor, so he didn’t look at Steve as he answered. “I was planning to walk but now I’m thinking that I’ll wait for the bus.”

“You _can’t_!” Steve blurted out, which caused Bucky to stop abruptly and look at him in confusion.

They stood facing one another in the hallway as Steve continued to speak, “You can hardly even walk straight, you’re not going to be able to stand up and wait for a bus. Let me give you a ride.”

Bucky shook his head slowly, “I don’t think that that’s a very good idea.”

“Why not?” Steve asked immediately.

“I just don’t. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me,” Bucky told him.

“Please let me do this for you. It’s the least I can do. If you won’t let me give you a ride, I’ll have to come on the bus with you and then come back for my car later. I can’t let you go on your own, you’re not in any fit state,” Steve said with a small hopeful smile on his face.

Bucky knew that he wasn’t going to win this discussion. Steve was clearly determined to help him even if he didn’t want him to. He sighed deeply in defeat.

“Fine, you can give me a ride home.”

Pleased that Bucky had agreed, Steve smiled and led him down to his car.

Conversation during the journey had been limited. Bucky didn’t seem particularly willing to talk and Steve had desperately tried to think of ways to fill the silence. After discussing the state of the traffic, the weather and the song that was on the radio, he was struggling. Things hadn’t been this awkward between them for a long time. They arrived outside Bucky’s building and both men were pleased to get out of the car.

Bucky stopped as he looked at Steve standing beside his car looking expectant.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said as he began walking towards the door of the building. He turned around when he realised that Steve was following him. “What are you doing?”

Steve smiled slightly. “I’m coming with you to make sure you make it up the stairs alright.”

“You’ve done enough,” Bucky said firmly. “I’ll be fine.” He hoped that would be enough to stop Steve, but as he climbed the few steps outside the building he swayed slightly on his feet and suddenly Steve was beside him holding his arm.

“This is why I’m coming with you,” Steve said simply.

Bucky might have scowled petulantly at the detective if he’d had the energy, but all he wanted to do was lie down. He hadn’t realised how exhausted he would feel.

After several stops on the stairs on the way up to the apartment, Bucky and Steve finally made it. Bucky opened the door and stepped in to the familiar space.

Unsurprisingly, Steve followed him in, looking around as he entered.

“Where’s Natasha?” he asked.

“Working,” Bucky replied. “She can’t afford to have any more time off.”

Steve looked at him sharply, “So if Natasha’s at work, you’re going to be here alone?”

Bucky nodded.

“Well you can’t stay on your own,” Steve told him. “You have a concussion: you need someone to keep an eye on you.”

Bucky shook his head immediately but then wished he hadn’t when he felt nauseous at the action. “Don’t really have much choice. I’ll be fine.” He felt like he had repeated that phrase a hundred times since Steve had turned up at the hospital.

“There’s no way I’m leaving you here on your own. I’ll stay,” Steve said like it was the most obvious solution to the problem.

“No way!” Bucky retorted. “You can’t stay here.”

“Why not?” Steve asked, seemingly completely oblivious to what the problem was.

Bucky stuttered over his answer, trying to come up with a valid reason. He eventually settled on one. “Because Natasha will come back and go mental if she finds you in her apartment.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully as though that made sense to him.

“Well you should come stay at my place for the night then.” The way he said it made it sound like such an obvious plan.

Bucky’s mouth actually hung open at the suggestion. He was sure that Steve had lost his mind and waited for him to suddenly realise what he had said and run out of the door. Steve didn’t move. He just waited for Bucky to respond to his idea.

“You can’t be serious,” Bucky eventually said.

“I don’t see the problem. It makes sense to me,” Steve replied.

“But…” Bucky couldn’t seem to think of a way to argue with Steve.

“Look, it’s either I stay here and Natasha freaks out when she gets back, or you come to mine and you let me take care of you,” Steve explained when he realised that Bucky was struggling to think of a reasonable argument.

The idea of someone looking after him sounded pretty appealing if Bucky was honest to himself; the idea of feeling safe and protected was also beginning to sway him. He was also so tired that he really didn’t think he could continue this discussion for much longer and he certainly didn’t think he could deal with Natasha and Steve having a blazing row in the early hours of the morning.

He decided to agree to Steve’s unusual suggestion. “Alright, I’ll come with you. I’ll just need to get some stuff together.”

Steve smiled brightly as he watched Bucky disappear into one of the bedrooms to gather some of his belongings. He couldn’t believe that he had actually won and Bucky had agreed to go with him. He always had been stubborn and it was clearly paying off now.

It didn’t take long before Bucky reappeared in the living area with the backpack, looking a lot fuller now. He moved to the table, grabbed an old receipt and turned it over to scrawl Natasha a message on the back about where he was and to let her know that she didn’t need to worry. He attached the paper to the front of the refrigerator with a magnet and turned to face Steve.

Steve couldn’t help but think how tired and lost Bucky looked standing there covered in bruises and bandages and he berated himself silently again for letting something like this happen. “Ready?” he asked simply.

Bucky nodded once and slowly followed Steve out of the apartment.   


	6. 6

During the journey to Steve’s house, Bucky had struggled to keep his eyes open. The steady rhythm of the car began to rock him into a comfortable sleepy state. However, when he felt the car come to a final stop as Steve drove it onto his driveway, Bucky felt himself suddenly become very alert. He peered out of the windscreen to look at Steve’s home before opening his door and climbing out carefully.

Steve waited for him at the front of the car, then led him to the front door. Bucky inspected the outside of the property, fascinated to be seeing the place where Steve lived. It suddenly became clear to Bucky the dramatic difference between his own life and Steve’s. This house was the perfect example of that. Steve was clearly well paid if he could afford to live in such an attractive house in such a desirable area. It wouldn’t have seemed out of place to find a white picket fence surrounding the front yard.

It had never really occurred to Bucky before, just how different their lives were; he hadn’t given much thought to Steve’s life outside work but now he was confronted by the reality.

Steve closed the door when Bucky had entered the house and threw his car keys onto the table in the entrance-way. Bucky watched as Steve walked into the living room. He followed him and looked around the area absorbing everything about the place. The living room was spacious and comfortably furnished, and led into a kitchen area that looked like it was half-way through being decorated. Suddenly, an image of Steve in old clothes, covered with splatters of paint appeared in Bucky’s mind and he smiled slightly to himself.

Steve was busy scooping up paperwork off the floor and the coffee table and collecting used mugs when he looked up at Bucky.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said as he looked around, almost guiltily. “I’m usually pretty organised but I’ve not had much chance to tidy up recently. Been really busy with work.”

Bucky smiled at him gently. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve seen where I live. This is like a palace compared to that.”

Steve actually blushed slightly at the comment before he disappeared into the kitchen with his arms full of the clutter that he had collected.

Bucky continued to gaze around the room. There were several photograph frames on shelves in the corner and Bucky was more than a little curious about the pictures that were inside them. He hoped that he would have chance to get a closer look before he had to leave.

To Bucky, the most attractive feature of the living room was the comfortable looking couch that seemed to be beckoning to him. All he wanted was to flop down onto it, rest his aching body and hopefully not have to move for a few hours. He didn’t feel comfortable with doing that though until Steve had suggested it, so he remained loitering in the middle of the room until Steve reappeared.

He took one look at Bucky standing there awkwardly and said, “Looks like you should sit down before you fall down.”

Bucky didn’t need telling twice and he carefully moved to sit down on the couch.

Steve studied him for a moment. “Can I get you anything? Something to eat? A drink?”

“A glass of water would be good thanks,” Bucky said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to accept all this being taken care of. Sure, Natasha had looked after him when he was ill but this was different.

Steve disappeared again and Bucky continued his visual tour of the living room. There was still paperwork lying around the place and take-out containers were scattered amongst it. Steve had obviously been doing a lot of work at home in his ‘free’ time. The room had the feeling of needing a good clean-up, something that Steve clearly didn’t have time for at the moment. Somehow Bucky liked that though, it made him feel more comfortable. If he’d walked into some pristine sparkling residence he would have felt completely out of place and afraid to touch anything.

Steve came back into the living room carrying a glass of water and a box of painkillers.

“I thought you might want a couple of these,” he said as he set them down on the coffee table.

The look on Bucky’s face was hard for Steve to comprehend. It was a mixture of surprise, gratitude and curiosity.

“I think you missed your true calling in life,” Bucky eventually said as he leant forward to pick up the glass.

Steve raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Bucky smiled in response before he continued, “You should have been a nurse seeing as you love bringing people medicine so much.”

Steve laughed at Bucky’s cheeky comment and suddenly felt a lot more relaxed about the whole situation. He had been wondering whether he had made a mistake in bringing Bucky home with him, but any doubts in his mind seemed to be erased by such a simple comment. If Bucky could joke around with him, he was sure that things would be alright.

Steve offered to make them something to eat. At first Bucky had refused, not wanting to put Steve to any more trouble, but Steve managed to convince him and disappeared into the kitchen.

Bucky could feel himself beginning to drift again and battled against the urge. He was relieved when Steve returned to the living room carrying two plates of steaming pasta.

“It’s not much,” Steve told him as he handed him a plate. “I wasn’t expecting company so there’s not much in. I’ve been living off take-out for the last week.”

Bucky shook his head, “This is fine, thank you.”

Steve smiled and they slipped into silence as they began to eat.

After a while, Bucky placed his fork down on the plate and looked at Steve steadily. As Steve looked up from his meal, they made eye contact and he knew that Bucky was going to say something.

“Why did you bring me here?” Bucky asked.

Steve had known that the question would eventually be asked but hadn’t expected it quite so soon. He knew what his answer was but he was still caught a little off-guard. He too placed his fork down and put his plate on the coffee table. Then he returned Bucky’s steady gaze for a moment before he replied.

“I brought you here because I wanted to. I want to look after you. I feel responsible for what happened to you. Natasha said that you hadn’t been working but then I was a dick and you went back. If it wasn’t for me being an idiot and letting myself get so stressed out, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Bucky looked as though he was about to interrupt but Steve continued before he had a chance.

“It’s not only that though. Yes, I feel bad, but that’s not the only reason. Since I’ve been getting to know you, I don’t look at you as just an informant. I see you as more than that – much more. I’ve never felt so awful as I did when I walked in and saw you in that hospital bed. I want to help you get better. I want to take care of you. But I also like being around you.”  

Bucky was staring at Steve wide eyed now. He had listened intently to what Steve had said and was now trying to absorb what the words meant. He didn’t know what to say.

Steve looked a little sheepish now that he had finally said his piece and he shuffled in his seat. Maybe he had said too much but he felt relieved to have actually said what he was feeling. He was about to go and clear away the dishes just to interrupt the silence when Bucky spoke.

“I don’t blame you for what happened to me, you know. I was upset by what you said, but I guess I took it too much to heart. I know that you were stressed out; I could tell that as soon as we started talking, but I kept pushing for some solution from you. And I know that wasn’t fair of me to expect that from you.

“What you said…well it stung, I guess. Certain things, certain words, kind of reinforce everything I hate about myself and…hearing them from you…well it hurt. But I shouldn’t have over-reacted and stormed out like I did. I _definitely_ shouldn’t have gone back to work. It’s stupid really, I was thinking about leaving when that creep pulled up. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, you don’t need to feel bad about what happened; it’s not your fault.”

Steve grunted slightly. He appreciated what Bucky had said but he wasn’t going to forgive himself that easily. “I should have come after you when you left or come to find you later on instead of skulking around here feeling shitty about it.”

Bucky shook his head but smiled slightly, “You’re not going to let yourself off the hook, are you?”

“No,” Steve stated simply, but he smiled a small smile too.

Bucky laughed a little. “Fine. But can we at least agree to not keep going over it and trying to decide who was the most to blame for what happened? We were both in the wrong, how does that suit you?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders, “Alright then.”

Silence descended again but it was comfortable. After a while Steve moved from his seat to gather the dishes to clear up. Bucky offered to help but Steve dismissed the offer immediately. He walked towards the large flat screen TV and turned it on. He handed the remote to Bucky before he picked up the plates and began walking towards the kitchen.

Just as he was about to disappear from sight, Bucky called out to him. Steve turned round with his hands full of dishes and looked at him.

“When you said that you liked being around me…I like being around you too,” Bucky told him.

Steve smiled widely. He didn’t need to say anything. It was obvious that he was pleased to hear Bucky’s words. He turned away from Bucky and continued into the kitchen.

Bucky sank down further into the couch. His body was still aching all over and he had been battling the desire to fall asleep since he had sat down. He felt much more relaxed after his conversation with Steve and, with the low background noise coming from the TV, he actually allowed his eyes to fall shut.    

***

Bucky wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he next opened his eyes. He probably wouldn’t have woken up at all if it hadn’t been for a persistent low voice invading his sleeping brain. He woke up slowly and looked around blearily. It took him a moment to remember where he was, but when he saw Steve leaning forwards from his chair smiling softly at him it all came back to him. He blinked at Steve a few times as he tried to drag himself back into wakefulness.

“I’m sorry that I woke you,” Steve said quietly. “I shouldn’t have let you fall asleep down here in the first place really. But you need to get some decent sleep in a proper bed instead of on the couch.”

Bucky yawned widely before he could stop himself and then slowly pushed himself into a more upright position. He winced as the action pulled on his bruised abdomen.

“Do you think you can make it up the stairs, or do I need to carry you?” Steve smiled playfully.

Bucky scowled but couldn’t help the small smile that played on his lips.

“I can walk,” he said simply.

Steve stood up and waited for Bucky to do the same. All of Bucky’s movements were slow and careful and Steve waited patiently for him.

Eventually, after what seemed like a never-ending flight of stairs to Bucky, they reached the upstairs of the house. Steve slowly led Bucky down the hallway.

Even in his sleepy state, Bucky was curious as to what was in each room. However, he didn’t have the energy to take everything in and he had to concentrate on his steady progress behind Steve. They passed two bedrooms and a bathroom, but Bucky didn’t pay much attention until Steve pushed open a half-closed door and flicked on a light in the room. Steve stepped into the room and Bucky followed him in, then stopped as he looked around the bedroom.

This room was clearly the best kept room in the house. There was none of the untidy clutter or mess from downstairs in this room. It was perfectly neat and ordered. A king-size bed covered in black bedding backed onto a wall painted in a dark bluish-grey colour. The other walls were a much lighter shade of the same paint creating a calm colour scheme. On the wall opposite from the bed, there was a closed door that Bucky assumed was an en-suite bathroom. A few canvas prints hung on the walls but other than that there was very little ornamentation in the room. Bucky scanned the room before looking back at the massive, comfortable bed. It looked so appealing to him that he actually wanted to walk up to it and flop down immediately but something held him back. This bedroom was far too stylish to simply be guest accommodation.

“This is your room, isn’t it?” he asked as he looked at Steve.

Steve smiled a little sheepishly. He was hoping that Bucky wouldn’t have realised. Inviting Bucky to stay with him wasn’t something that he had planned; it had been an impulse decision. Caught up in the moment, he had completely forgotten that his spare room was currently a dumping ground for everything that he didn’t have time to organise or put away. He was usually a tidy person who hated mess, but recently he had been so busy that things had got on top of him. The other spare room was set up as an office space, although he had taken to spreading his paperwork out all over the floor in the living room in the last few weeks. He could hardly tell Bucky that there was nowhere for him to sleep now that he had brought him here, so had decided that the only option would be for Bucky to have his bed.

“It _is_ my room,” Steve replied. “But the spare room’s a disaster zone so you can stay in here and I’ll figure something else out for me.”

Bucky shook his head quickly, “I can’t. I can’t kick you out of your own room.”

He began backing out of the room but Steve reached out and touched his arm gently. Their eyes met and Steve smiled softly. “You aren’t kicking me out. I’m offering it to you. I want you to stay here.”

Bucky was still shaking his head, “But where are _you_ going to sleep?”

Steve shrugged, “On the couch. I’ll be fine.”  

Bucky looked sceptical but the exhaustion that he was feeling was beginning to win the battle. He couldn’t stand there arguing for much longer.

Steve began to move towards the door. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Get some rest.” He smiled again and moved out of the room completely.

Bucky turned and watched him disappear down the stairs. Then he turned back to face the welcoming bed. He pushed the door to, but didn’t close it completely then toed his shoes off. His limbs felt like dead weights and his eyes were drooping as he shuffled across the room towards the bed. He didn’t even have the energy to take off his clothes as he lay down on top of the covers on the bed. Nothing could have kept him awake at that moment. His eyes closed instantly and he gave into his exhaustion. He was asleep within minutes.               

***

During the night, Steve silently made his way up the stairs several times to check on Bucky. He was pleased to find that the bedroom door had been left slightly ajar so he could push it open and walk in without disturbing him.

At first he had been concerned to find Bucky fully clothed, sleeping on top of the covers but he knew there was nothing to worry about when he saw how peaceful the other man looked. It had been obvious that Bucky was completely drained by his experiences so Steve was just relieved to find that he was able to get some decent sleep, even if he wasn’t actually _in_ the bed.

The following morning Steve was busy trying to tidy up his kitchen without making too much noise. He had never realised that washing the dishes was nearly impossible to do in silence. When he had jobs to do in the house, such as the decorating in the kitchen that he knew needed to be finished, he usually put his music on loudly to fill the somewhat lonely silence. This morning though he had been working quietly, hoping to allow Bucky to sleep for as long as he needed. He was slightly startled by a quiet, sleep-rough voice behind him.

“Morning.”

Steve spun round with a plate covered in soap still in his hand. “Bucky, I didn’t hear you come down. How are you feeling?”

Bucky smiled weakly and tipped his hand from side-to-side in a ‘not-too-bad’ kind of gesture. “I’m alright. Still got a pounding headache though. Feel a bit better for getting a decent night’s sleep.”

Steve frowned. He didn’t like that Bucky was still feeling the effects of his head wound but he thought it was better not to fuss over it. He would keep an eye on Bucky though. “How did you sleep?” he asked instead.

“Like the dead,” Bucky said as he sat down slowly at the breakfast table in the kitchen.

Steve nodded, although he wasn’t sure he was happy with the comparison. “Do you want some breakfast?”

Bucky shook his head slightly, “Nah, I don’t think I can face anything thanks. Maybe just a cup of coffee to wake me up a bit.”

“Sure,” Steve said as he turned and pulled a cup from the cupboard.

“So what time do you go to work?” Bucky asked eventually as Steve worked on making his drink.

“I don’t today,” Steve replied as he turned and placed the cup of coffee in front of Bucky. “It’s my day off.” He sat down in one of the other seats at the table.

Bucky eyed him slightly suspiciously, “You’re not having a day off because of me, are you?”

Steve shook his head. “No, it’s just the way my shifts have fallen. Kind of worked out for the best though.” He smiled at Bucky for a moment before asking, “Why would it matter if I had taken a day off anyway?”

Bucky tilted his head to the side slightly, “Because you’ve already done enough for me. You’ve let me into your home; you gave up your bed. I can’t ask you to do anything else.”

Steve shook his head quickly to disagree, “You haven’t _asked_ me to do anything. I told you last night, I _want_ to do this.”

For a moment, Bucky looked like he might argue further but then Steve watched as he seemed to swallow down what he was about to say. Steve wasn’t used to that; if Bucky had something to say, nothing usually stopped him. He obviously wasn’t feeling like his usual self.

Steve couldn’t help but think that Bucky still looked exhausted even after sleeping. Not only that, but the bruises seemed somehow darker today. Steve despised every one of the marks that damaged Bucky’s skin. Without realising, he had been clenching his fist as he looked over Bucky’s injuries.

Bucky was watching him closely. “Everything alright?”

Steve seemed to shake himself from his dark thoughts and nodded. “Yeah, fine. So I suppose you need to take things nice and easy today.”

Bucky shrugged. “I guess. Why? What are you going to do?”

“No major plans,” Steve replied. “Think I’d better go and get some groceries though. I can’t just feed you pasta and coffee.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at Steve’s comment.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, noticing Bucky’s reaction.

“I just assumed that I’d be going home later today,” Bucky replied quietly.

“Oh,” Steve said. “Well I think you should stay here for a while. I think it’d be good for you…I’d like you to.”

Bucky smiled slightly. He didn’t reply, he just nodded slowly and continued to sip at his coffee.

***

Later, Steve left Bucky drifting in and out of sleep on the couch while he went to buy food.

When he returned, Bucky was fast asleep again. He didn’t look as peaceful as he had during the night though. Every so often his face would scrunch up and his eye-lids flickered. Steve wasn’t sure whether he was having a dream or if his injuries were causing him pain even in his sleep. He began to wonder whether he should call the station and tell them that he wouldn’t be in tomorrow. He rarely, if ever, took days off for personal reasons so maybe he was owed a few days now. He contemplated the idea as he put the groceries away in the kitchen, again trying to be as quiet as possible.

Steve was surprised by how quickly the day seemed to pass. Bucky spent most of the day sitting on the couch. The few times that he had moved, Steve had watched in concern as he wrapped his arms around his abdomen and winced as he walked. Steve could hardly believe that the hospital had discharged him. Surely he was in no fit state to be out of bed.

Even though Bucky was clearly in a lot of pain and still needed to rest, he offered to help Steve tidy up around the kitchen when he moved off the couch. Steve had raised his eyebrows in disbelief and immediately guided Bucky back to his place on the couch, reprimanding him for being ridiculous and telling him that he needed to concentrate on getting better instead of worrying about the house.

As Bucky slept fitfully on the couch again later on, Steve sat and watched him. He made his decision to call his superior officer and get tomorrow off. Since he had joined the force, he had been totally committed to his work, he had dragged himself in even when he had felt terrible and had never dreamt of calling in pretending to be sick. This was worth it though. They would survive for a day without him and he couldn’t imagine leaving Bucky alone in this state. Before the work-obsessed part of his brain could object, he grabbed his phone and made the call.

***

It was getting late when Steve decided that Bucky really should go up to bed. He had watched as Bucky had yawned repeatedly for the last half an hour and how his eyes-lids had started to droop.

Bucky looked somewhat frustrated by the whole situation.

“I don’t know how I can still be so tired. I’ve been asleep nearly all day. You must think I’m so lazy.”

Steve chuckled lightly, “Of course not. You’ve been through a lot, Buck. Your body’s doing the only thing it can to help you recover.”

Bucky huffed as he slowly pushed himself off the couch. He watched as Steve suddenly yawned. “You look almost as tired as me,” he said.

Steve shook his head in denial. “Nah, I’m alright really. Had a few bad nights in a row, so I just need to catch up.” His comment wasn’t completely believable as he tried to stifle another yawn.

Bucky raised an eyebrow clearly showing that he wasn’t convinced. He didn’t say anything though as they began to make their way up the stairs. 

When they reached Steve’s room, Bucky turned to him and said, “Where are you going to sleep tonight?”

Steve looked at Bucky in confusion, “On the couch.”

“You know, you might be able to catch up on some of your sleep if I wasn’t stealing your bed,” Bucky commented.

Steve shook his head vigorously, “I’ve told you, it’s fine. And anyway, you’re not ‘stealing’ it. I’ve given it to you. Besides there aren’t a lot of other options.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “You should sleep in here.”

Again Steve shook his head, “Well, where are you going to sleep then? I know you’ve been on the couch all day but you need to get some proper sleep in bed tonight.”

“I know,” Bucky replied. “But, the way I see it, the bed’s plenty big enough for two people. You should stay up here with me.”

Steve’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head at the suggestion and Bucky might have laughed if his stomach wasn’t doing flips waiting for Steve’s response.

“I…well…I…that’s very kind of you to offer but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea,” Steve finally managed to say.

Bucky shrugged and turned to walk back towards the stairs.

Steve remained rooted to the spot in shock for a moment before he quickly moved to stop Bucky. “Where are you going?”

“Downstairs,” Bucky stated simply. “To sleep on the couch. I’m not going to take your bed away from you for another night.”

He watched as Steve looked completely appalled by his plan. He was really hoping that Steve would decide to just stay in the room with him quickly as he didn’t know how much longer he could stand around in the hallway without falling over.

“You can’t!” Steve objected.

“I don’t see that we have a choice,” Bucky answered. “If you really don’t feel comfortable staying in a bed with me then I’ll have to go.”

“That’s not it,” Steve blurted. “It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable. It’s just that…well you surprised me, that’s all. And what if I roll over in the night and hurt you or something?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders slightly, “I’m sure you won’t. I trust you.” He sensed that he had nearly won.

Steve looked indecisive for a few more moments before he sighed, “Okay, okay, we’ll both stay in there.”

Bucky smiled faintly and began to walk back towards the bedroom slowly.

Steve followed him without saying anything else.

Secretly, Bucky was feeling quite pleased with himself. He had felt that Steve had been completely in control over the last few days; practically forcing Bucky to get in the car with him at the hospital and then suggesting that he stayed at Steve’s. Not that Bucky was complaining. He was truly grateful for Steve’s kind nature and the fact that he was doing everything he could to take care of him. But he also didn’t like the idea that Steve had managed to catch him off guard so much, at least now he felt like the tables had been turned slightly.

By the time they reached the bedroom, Steve seemed to have recovered from the shock a little. “Are you actually going to sleep _in_ the bed instead of on top of it tonight?” he asked.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the comment, “Do you know what? I think I might. And anyway, how do you know I didn’t get in the bed?”

Steve actually blushed and cursed himself silently. His cheeky comment had given him away. He cleared his throat, “Well I came up to check on you last night. You were suffering a concussion; I wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

“Right,” Bucky drawled as he smiled at Steve. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom to get ready for bed?”

Steve shook his head, “I’ll go down the hall and use the other one.”

Bucky nodded and the two of them went their separate ways.

When Steve returned to the bedroom, Bucky was already in bed and this time he was under the covers. For a moment, Steve thought that he was already asleep but as he stepped closer to the bed Bucky’s eyes snapped open. He looked at Steve steadily for a moment then smiled gently. “Am I on the right side?” he asked quietly.

It took a moment for Steve to understand the question. “Yeah, you’ll be fine on that side. I’m afraid I usually just lie wherever. It’s been a while since I’ve had to worry about ‘sides’ of the bed.”

Bucky smiled softly again, then closed his eyes.

Steve cleared his throat, wondering why he had said what he just had, then lifted the covers and slid into the bed. He reached out and switched the bedside lamp off. The room didn’t descend into complete darkness as the moonlight still filtered in. Steve could still see Bucky’s face as he lay with his back to the window, facing him. The bruises still shone brightly on his face, but he looked peaceful as his dark eyelashes rested against his cheekbones. Steve couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s face and he lay on his back with his head turned towards Bucky just watching him silently.

After a little while, Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. His eyes met Steve’s and for a long time neither of them moved or spoke. Steve thought that he should have been embarrassed to have been caught staring at Bucky so obviously, but he didn’t. He actually felt completely comfortable and relaxed.

A slight movement beneath the covers signalled the movement of Bucky’s arm. He lifted it up and placed his right hand on Steve’s shoulder gently. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he whispered. “I’m glad that I’m here.”

Steve smiled in contentment, “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you’re here too.”

Bucky smiled and took a deep breath. Then his eyes fell closed. He didn’t fall asleep immediately. Steve knew that Bucky was still awake for a little while because his finger was tracing some imaginary pattern on Steve’s shoulder. The action lulled Steve into a sleepy state. He was aware when the tickling sensation slowed and eventually completely stopped and he was pleased that Bucky had finally dropped off to sleep. Only then did he feel able to allow himself to give in to sleep and he too drifted off.

***

The next morning, Steve and Bucky slept in. It wasn’t exactly unexpected for Bucky seeing as he was still recovering from the attack, but it was almost unheard of for Steve to stay late in bed.

When his eyes cracked open, he was amazed to see the display of his bedside clock read 09:36. On a normal day he would have been up for nearly three hours by now. What surprised him even more was the fact that he didn’t feel bothered in the slightest. Usually, Steve was keen to get up and get going in the mornings, he didn’t like the idea of wasting the day lazing around in bed but today he felt completely content to lie there for a little longer. He had a good idea what the difference was today. He turned his head to look at the still-sleeping man beside him. Bucky’s hand was still resting on Steve’s shoulder and the feeling warmed Steve’s entire being. Bucky looked peaceful in sleep this morning and Steve was in no hurry to move from the warm bed and disturb him.

Eventually, Steve knew he had to move and he tried to do it without waking Bucky. He gently lifted the hand that was placed on his shoulder and laid it flat on the bed. Then he pushed the covers away slowly and swung his legs out of the bed. Just as he was about to move off the mattress, he heard a shuffling behind him and he turned to look at Bucky.

Bucky was blinking slowly as he tried to focus on Steve.

“Morning,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky smiled tiredly. “Morning. You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”

Even in such a sleepy state, Bucky was making sarcastic comments Steve thought to himself as he smiled at him. “Well, I didn’t want to wake you but I guess I failed.”

“Don’t worry. I know I need my beauty sleep, especially at the moment,” he said as he lifted his hand to point to his face. “But even I have to get up at some point.”

Steve frowned slightly at Bucky’s comment but didn’t say anything; he didn’t want to start the day thinking about how Bucky had ended up in such a state. He pushed himself out of the bed and stretched. If he’d turned around at that moment, he would have seen Bucky’s eyes widen and his mouth hang open as he took in the sight before him.

Bucky had always thought that Steve was gorgeous and had known that beneath his work attire he was probably in good shape but he was completely stunned by what he saw now. He watched as well-toned muscles rippled beneath Steve’s smooth skin as he stretched. He drank in the sight of the bare flesh that ran down to the waistband of sleep-shorts that covered Steve’s ass.

When Steve eventually turned around, Bucky was still staring and he smirked at the look on his face.

Bucky seemed to snap himself out of his trance but not for long as his eyes began to roam Steve’s chest and then his muscular arms.

“Something wrong?” Steve asked cheekily.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong there,” Bucky answered dreamily.

Steve laughed, “Bucky?”

Finally, Bucky’s eyes drifted up to look at Steve’s face. Even under the bruises, Steve could see the pink tinge on Bucky’s cheeks.

“Sorry,” Bucky said trying to recover some of his dignity after being caught staring. He cleared his throat and looked down at the bedding. “I just didn’t know you were so...I didn’t know you worked out so much.”

Steve laughed, “Oh right. Yeah, well, I guess I like to keep in shape. The police have a long-standing relationship with doughnuts apparently, so I don’t suppose it’s necessarily what people expect from a detective.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is,” Bucky mumbled.

“Well I’m going to go downstairs and make some breakfast. Are you coming to join me?” Steve asked cheerfully.

“Um yeah, I’ll be down in a minute,” Bucky answered.

Steve smiled brightly and left the bedroom.

Bucky lay back in the bed and stared at the ceiling as he tried to calm his racing pulse before he went downstairs.

***

The day was spent relaxing. Steve was pleased to find that Bucky was managing to stay awake during the day so they sat out in the garden to get some fresh air.

Bucky had been a little annoyed when he first found out that Steve had taken a day off work because of him. However, Steve had managed to talk him round and as the day had gone on, Bucky had actually decided that he was glad that Steve had stayed home with him.

As the evening arrived, Steve suggested that he could take another day off to spend with Bucky. As much as Bucky would have enjoyed it, he had to be sensible and he told Steve that he had to go back to work.

“Besides, if you keep taking days off because of me, how are you ever going to catch the guy that’s been attacking everyone?”

Steve had scowled at the mention of that man. As much as he was desperate to catch the attacker, he had tried to push it from his mind over the last few days. He had been focused on Bucky but then he realised that the only reason that Bucky was staying with him at all was because of what that bastard had done so he really couldn’t escape it. He accepted Bucky’s reasoning and agreed that he would go back to work.

That night there was no awkwardness as Steve and Bucky climbed into bed. This was the arrangement now and they were both happy with it.

Even though it had been a restful day, Bucky fell asleep almost immediately. On the other side of the bed, Steve lay awake. He was already going over the case in his head. He was trying to think if there was some small piece of evidence that they might have missed. He was determined to stop the attacker and make him pay for what he had done.

If Steve had been alone in his bed, he might have got up and gone downstairs for a while to take his mind off his thoughts, but he didn’t want to disturb Bucky so he stayed where he was. He looked over at Bucky’s sleeping form and watched him as he had done the previous night.

Bucky didn’t look anywhere near as peaceful as he was last night. He watched as Bucky’s eyes seemed to be twitching behind his closed eyelids.

As Steve watched, Bucky squeezed his eyes closed tightly and began mumbling, before he started pushing the covers away from his body. His face scrunched up and the mumbles became shouts. It was obvious that he was having a nightmare, quite probably about what had happened to him.

Within moments, Steve shuffled closer to the still-sleeping man and wrapped his arms around him, whispering soothing words into his ear. “Sshh, Bucky, it’s alright. You’re safe, you’re alright.”

After a few final struggles, Bucky stilled in Steve’s arms. He opened his eyes suddenly and sucked in a deep breath. He raised a hand to rub at his face, then hissed in pain as his fingers caught on the cut on his lip.

Again Steve whispered, “You’re alright. You’re safe: I’ve got you.”

Bucky seemed to suddenly become aware of the position he was in; wrapped protectively in Steve’s arms with his head resting on a broad chest instead of on a pillow. He reached out to find Steve’s hand with his own and entwined their fingers. “I know,” he said quietly. He blew out a long breath and eventually closed his eyes again.

Steve waited until he could feel that Bucky’s breathing had become deep and steady before he allowed his own eyes to fall shut.


	7. 7

Over the next week, Bucky remained at Steve’s house.

His injuries were beginning to heal and the bruises had started to change from a dark purple to a yellowish-green shade.

Steve had been at work every day and Bucky was almost starting to feel like a housewife. After the first few days of sitting in the house alone watching TV and sleeping, he began to feel well enough to move about more easily and he decided to clean the house. It was weird because he generally wasn’t a tidy person, his room at the apartment was a bit of a mess, but he felt like he couldn’t just sit around doing nothing all day.

Steve had been more than a little surprised when he had come home to find that Bucky had nearly finished cleaning the kitchen. At first, he had actually reprimanded Bucky, telling him that he should have been resting instead of doing jobs, but Bucky had been so adamant that he wanted to do something for Steve to repay his kindness that Steve had given in. Bucky had been steadily making his way through the house cleaning each of the rooms.

Once Bucky felt more comfortable moving around, he had also gone back to the apartment to see Natasha. He had been dreading the reaction he would get from his friend and he wasn’t surprised by what Natasha said to him when he let himself into the apartment.

“Wow, you look really familiar. I think I used to have a room-mate that looked like you but he went off with some dickhead cop and I haven’t seen or heard from him since,” Natasha remarked sarcastically.

Bucky sighed and let the comment go. He could understand why Natasha was so irritated by the whole situation. Natasha had always hated the police, then Bucky had brought an officer into their lives. Then he said he never wanted to see that officer again and then he went to stay with the same person that he had called an asshole. As complicated as it was, Bucky just couldn’t bring himself to stay away from Steve.

“I’m sorry that I disappeared; I guess you got my note,” Bucky said somewhat sheepishly.

Natasha’s nostrils flared as she sucked in an angry breath.

“Oh yeah, I got your note. The last time I saw you, you were in a complete state in the hospital, which was all _his_ fault in the first place in case you’ve forgotten, and then, the next thing I know, you’re staying at his fucking house!” Natasha was pacing angrily in front of Bucky as she spoke.

Bucky followed his friend’s movements with his eyes almost as though he was watching a tennis match. When he was sure that Natasha had finished her little rant, he decided it was safe to speak.

“I understand why you must be pissed off and confused.”

“Pissed off – yes. Confused – too fucking right I am,” Natasha interrupted. “I just don’t get it, James.”

“Do you want me to explain then?” Bucky said, without trying to snap at his already irate friend.

Natasha just stared at Bucky whilst chewing the inside of her cheek: she was waiting for Bucky’s explanation.

Taking Natasha’s silence as his cue to continue speaking, Bucky began trying to explain what had happened.

“The night I came back to work, I was upset with Steve. He had said something that bothered me and I reacted badly. I guess I over-reacted really and made a stupid decision to go back out to work that night. It was stupid and I wasn’t thinking straight. If I had been, maybe I wouldn’t have gone with that guy. It wasn’t Steve’s fault _and_ if it wasn’t for him I’d probably be dead.”

“How do you figure that?” Natasha erupted suddenly.

“I’m pretty sure that the only thing that saved me was having that pepper spray. Steve gave it to me so if he hadn’t…” He left the sentence unfinished as the reality sunk in with Natasha.

After a moment, Natasha huffed and sat down across from Bucky.

“Okay, so it wasn’t his fault that you got attacked, but I still don’t get why you’re staying with him.”

Bucky sighed heavily. He didn’t know how to explain this part so easily.

“Steve came to see me at the hospital. He offered to help me get home and then, when we got back here, he didn’t want to leave me alone while you were at work. I had no idea that he was going to offer to take me to his place but he was so insistent and I was so tired. It just seemed like a good idea, I guess.” He paused to gauge Natasha’s reaction and see if his friend was going to comment, but there was no sign of any interruption so he continued. “I know you don’t like the cops and I’ve spent so long trying to tell you that Steve is different. Then I guess all this happened and it made you think you were right all along, but Steve _is_ different. If you knew the things he’s said to me and what he’s done for me over these last few days…you’d understand.”

Natasha looked at her friend for a long time; she seemed to be scrutinising him closely. “You really like him, don’t you?” she said after a while.

Bucky smiled before replying simply, “Yes. I do.”

Natasha smiled slightly although she still looked a little dubious. “So are you going to be staying with him for a while then?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so. If he’s happy to let me stay, I’d like to stay with him for a while.”

“Hmm, well at least I know you’re still alive and I suppose he’ll make sure you’re alright.” Natasha paused and chewed the inside of her cheek again for a moment, “Just be careful, okay? I know you like him and you say he’s different but just…well just be careful.”

Bucky knew that this was the most sentimental his friend was going to get at the moment and he smiled and nodded.

After that, the two of them moved away from the topic and chatted about what else had been going on. Bucky was more than a little relieved to be back to his normal, comfortable relationship with his best friend, and glad that she seemed to be trying to accept his explanation about Steve.

***

A few days later, Steve had gone to work and left Bucky tidying up the house again. Bucky seemed to find cleaning up the house therapeutic somehow and he actually enjoyed it. He blasted out some of Steve’s music that he had selected and kept himself busy.

Steve worked long shifts and Bucky was already used to him going out early in the morning and not returning until late on in the evening. So he practically jumped out of his skin when he turned around during the early afternoon to find Steve leaning against the kitchen wall smiling brightly at him.

“Jesus Christ!” Bucky said as he held his hand against his chest. “What are you doing back?”

Steve laughed at Bucky’s reaction. “Sorry for making you jump. I did shout when I came in but I guess you didn’t hear with the music on. Then when I found you in here I thought it’d be funny to see how long it took you to notice that I was here.”

Bucky felt his cheeks heat a little, wondering how long Steve had been standing watching him. “It’s not funny,” he said trying to look annoyed, “You nearly gave me a heart-attack.”

Steve laughed again, “Sorry. But I do bring good news if that helps.”

Bucky immediately looked interested. He turned the music off and waited for Steve to tell him his news.

“When I got to work this morning there was a message from the hospital. Your friend Peter’s awake,” Steve told him with a wide smile.

“That’s great news!” Bucky said brightly.

“Well, Sam and I went down there this morning to talk to him. He couldn’t give us much, he’s pretty blank about the whole thing at the moment, but he was able to talk to us a bit,” Steve continued.

Bucky was still smiling. “I’m so pleased he’s finally awake. He’s a nice guy; he didn’t deserve what happened to him. So, you came all the way home to tell me that?”

Steve smiled at him. “Well, yeah. I was wondering if you’d like to go and see him.”

Bucky was more than a little surprised by Steve’s suggestion. “Really?” he asked. “When?”

“I was thinking now,” Steve said.

Despite being caught off guard by the idea, Bucky was keen to go. He went to get changed into some clean clothes and then followed Steve out to the car.

When they arrived at the hospital, Steve showed Bucky to Peter’s room then left him to go in on his own.

Bucky was actually feeling nervous about going in. As much as he wanted to see Peter for himself and know that he was recovering, he didn’t really know what he was supposed to say. Quietly, Bucky entered the room and found Peter propped up slightly by pillows in his bed with his eyes closed. He cleared his throat softly and Peter opened his eyes and looked in his direction.

“Bucky?” he croaked out.

Bucky allowed the door to close behind him and stepped closer to the bed.

“Yeah, it’s me. I thought I’d come and see how you were.”

Peter smiled weakly. “That’s really nice of you.”

Bucky continued moving closer until he was right next to the bed. He sat down in a plastic chair and looked Peter over. This was the first time he had seen his friend. Steve had told him what had happened and he knew that Peter had been nearly killed but actually seeing his condition was like a slap in the face to Bucky. He actually felt like he had got off lightly.

He cleared his throat again, “So, how are you doing?”

The small smile faded from Peter’s face. “I’m alright,” he replied quietly.

Bucky tilted his head to the side. “You don’t have to bullshit me, pal.”

Peter actually chuckled a little at the comment before saying, “Alright, I feel like crap. Everything hurts. The doctor said I’ve been here for weeks. I feel completely confused.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Bucky asked.

Peter closed his eyes for a moment. When he looked at Bucky again, he looked so sad that Bucky regretted asking the question.

“Yeah, I remember what happened. The police came round this morning asking me about it, but I don’t think I was much help to them. I gave them a description of the guy – I don’t think I’ll ever forget his face,” Peter said quietly.

Bucky could empathise with that; he had seen his attacker’s face in his nightmares more than once in the last week.

“Looks like you’ve had a bit of a rough time yourself,” Peter said as he lifted his hand slowly to point at Bucky’s face.

Bucky shook his head slowly. “It’s nothing. Not compared to what you’ve been through.”

A heavy silence descended on the room for a while before Peter asked, “How did you know I was awake?”

Bucky didn’t know how his answer would be received but he wasn’t going to lie. “One of the police officers that came to see you this morning told me. He brought me down here to see you.”

Peter looked surprised and a little confused, “Oh, right.” He looked like he wanted to say more but he didn’t speak again.

Bucky took a deep breath before he explained in more detail. “I’m not working as a hooker anymore,” he said, and he felt a great sense of pride wash over him saying those words out loud. He smiled confidently, “I don’t want to do that anymore and I’m trying to move on with my life.”

Peter actually smiled widely at him, “Well, I’m pleased for you. Good for you.”

“What about you?” Bucky asked. “Before this happened you seemed like you wanted to get out of it yourself.”

Peter nodded slowly. “I do. I’m going to. This has been the final warning for me, I guess. If I don’t get out, I’ll end up dead.”

“What are you going to do then?” Bucky asked.

“Move away from round here. Try to start out somewhere new. Maybe get a normal job. No-one will miss me,” Peter said sadly.

Bucky pulled a face and Peter continued, “You’re the only one who has bothered to come and see me. I asked the doctor and he said no-one has been down here to ask about me. I suppose I should be grateful that Vasily hasn’t come to look for me…” Peter trailed off and stared at the wall for a while. “Anyway, as soon as I’m back on my feet, I’m out of here.”

Bucky didn’t know whether he should feel sorry for Peter or congratulate him. “I think you’re doing the right thing. If you need any help though, you’ve got my number.”

“Thanks,” Peter said quietly.

Bucky tried to steer the conversation onto other topics. Neither of them wanted to spend too long thinking about what had happened to them and it wouldn’t do them any good to think about the past.

After nearly an hour, Bucky said his farewells and promised to come back to visit Peter while he was recovering in the hospital.

Bucky found Steve in his car going through some paperwork that he had brought with him. “Do you ever stop?” he laughed as he slid into the front seat.

Steve looked like he was giving the question serious thought before he answered with a smile, “No.”

Steve threw the papers onto the backseat, which caused Bucky to roll his eyes, and they set off.

“I’ve got to get back to work, but I can drop you off back at home on the way if you want,” Steve said as he drove.

“Actually, could you drop me off at the apartment? I’d like to catch up with Nat if she’s there and pick up some stuff,” Bucky replied.

“Of course,” Steve said.

As they continued on their journey, Bucky couldn’t help but think how lucky he was. Seeing Peter had made him realise how much he had to be thankful for. Not only had he survived a terrible ordeal, but he also had people who cared about him. He glanced over at Steve and smiled softly to himself.

When they arrived outside Natasha’s building, Bucky turned in his seat to smile widely at Steve. Steve returned the smile, although he wondered why Bucky was looking quite so happy.

“I’ll see you at home later,” Bucky said as he opened the car door.

If it was possible, Steve’s smile became even brighter when he heard Bucky’s use of the word ‘home’. He was just thinking how much he liked the sound of that when Bucky turned back and leant towards him. Steve was caught completely off guard when Bucky’s lips brushed against his. His right hand fell away from the steering wheel and rose to gently hold the back of Bucky’s neck so that the kiss wouldn’t end too soon. Bucky’s own hand gripped onto the front of Steve’s shirt as his lips moved against Steve’s. They had been sharing a bed for a week, but this kiss was the most sensual thing that had happened between them and suddenly they were both aware of how much they wanted it to never end.

It was Bucky that eventually pulled away. He licked at his bottom lip as his eyes locked with Steve’s. “You have to go,” he said quietly.

Steve grunted in annoyance. ‘ _How the hell am I supposed to go back to work now?’_ he thought to himself.

Bucky was smiling cheekily at him, almost as though he could read his thoughts.

Steve scowled in mock sulkiness as Bucky actually got out of the car this time.

“See you later,” he called.

“See you later,” Steve echoed, smiling again.

Bucky returned his happy expression and closed the car door. He watched as Steve drove off, then turned around to visit his friend.   

***

As usual, it was early evening when Steve returned to the house. He walked in and called out to Bucky. He heard a call in response and made his way into the kitchen. Bucky was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms folded across his chest: his face was pensive. It was obvious to Steve that something was wrong. He looked at Bucky curiously but his heart was thundering in his chest. As soon as he had seen Bucky’s stance he had immediately assumed the worst. What if Bucky had thought about their kiss and decided it had been a mistake? Steve could hardly bear to consider it. Not when he had spent the whole afternoon daydreaming about the moment that they had finally taken a step forward in their relationship.

“Are you alright, Buck?” Steve asked eventually.

Bucky looked at him seriously and chewed on his lower lip. A few times he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, then he finally seemed to find the words he wanted to say.

“When I kissed you earlier…it was what I had wanted to do for a long time but…I shouldn’t have done it.”

As soon as Bucky had started to speak, Steve had felt his heart sink. “Why? I don’t understand.”

Bucky unfolded his arms and ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly.

“I shouldn’t have done it because, as much as I wanted to, I can’t guarantee you anything else. I think you’re well aware that I like you a lot, Steve, but you know about my past. You know what I’ve done for a living for years. And I’m sure you know what that might mean for me. I’ve always tried to be careful, but nothing is one hundred per cent safe. I could have been exposed to any number of different infections. I’m not willing to put you at risk and we can’t go any further with this with that hanging over us.”

Steve was staring at Bucky in shock. He couldn’t believe that Bucky had got himself into such a distressed state about the fact that he might have contracted some sexually transmitted disease. In truth, Steve _had_ thought about it. He knew that Bucky’s work had put him at risk and he had assumed that it was probably the reason that nothing physical had happened between them. As he looked at Bucky, he realised how much of a huge issue it was for him. He didn’t understand why Bucky had suddenly brought it up though.

“I don’t think you should let it get you so worked up yet,” he said gently. “We don’t know anything for definite. You should get tested and then we’ll know for sure.”

Suddenly, Bucky began pacing across the kitchen in front of Steve. When he reached one end of the room, he spun round and quickly walked back towards the breakfast table. He stopped in front of it and looked down at the table-top.

Following his gaze, Steve saw something that he hadn’t noticed before. Placed on the table was an envelope with Bucky’s name and the address of the apartment printed on the front.

Bucky continued to stare at it for a moment before he looked up at Steve.

“I’ve already been tested,” he said quietly. “I had it done before I left the hospital last week. Those are my results.” He pointed at the envelope with a slightly unsteady hand, then folded his arms across his chest and stared at it again.

Steve was quiet for a while as he too stared at the envelope. He swallowed anxiously. “Well…what were your results?” he asked eventually.

Bucky looked at him steadily, “I don’t know. I haven’t opened them yet.”

“ _Why_?” Steve asked in confusion.

“I can’t,” Bucky admitted as he looked back at the envelope. “I guess I’m too afraid to do it. When I got to Natasha’s, she gave them to me and I haven’t been able to open them. I just brought them back here. I’ve been staring at that damn envelope all afternoon. I can’t do it.” He paused for a moment and then looked up at Steve pleadingly. “Will you open it for me?”

Steve looked at him in shock. Obviously this was something that was causing Bucky a great deal of stress, but Steve could hardly believe that he would ask him to open a letter that contained such potentially life-changing news.

“You’re serious?” he spluttered out.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I can’t bring myself to open it. Please?”

Steve looked at Bucky’s pleading face and took a deep breath. He reached forward and lifted the envelope off the table-top. Holding it between his fingers, he wondered how something so flimsy could cause so much anxiety, but he could only imagine how Bucky must have been feeling.

Bucky was watching him with wide-eyes.

After a moment, Steve began to slide his thumb beneath the seal of the envelope and Bucky couldn’t stand to watch. He turned away to look out of the kitchen window. Even with his back turned, he could still see Steve reflected in the glass, his face serious as he pulled the paper from the envelope. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut; he didn’t want to see Steve’s reaction as he read the letter.

Time seemed to have stopped as Bucky stood with his back turned and his eyes closed.

Then he heard a voice close behind him. “Bucky…all the results are negative.”

His eyes snapped open and he turned around so quickly that he nearly wobbled over. He hadn’t realised that Steve was so close behind him either as he made eye contact with the other man.

“They’re all negative,” Steve repeated. “You have _no_ sexually transmitted infections.”

Steve held the letter up in front of Bucky and he scanned the text quickly. He didn’t speak; he didn’t know what to say. He looked beyond the letter at Steve again and gave him a watery smile.

Steve smiled brightly at him and pulled him into a tight hug. “I knew you’d be alright,” he whispered into his ear.

Bucky returned the hug, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. He was so overwhelmed that he could feel tears of happiness stinging at his eyes. He had been so afraid that his past would stand in the way of his future with Steve that now he could barely contain his relief.

Steve gently pushed him backwards, holding him by the shoulders so that he could look at him. “Are you alright?” he asked kindly.

Bucky just nodded. He still couldn’t find the words to speak.

Steve tilted his head to the side slightly. He was still smiling. “I think you’d better have a sit down. I’ll make us some dinner.”

Bucky allowed himself to be directed towards the living room. He flopped down onto the couch and leaned his head back. In his mind, he heard Steve’s words repeated over and over. He was free from any nasty infections. He was free to move on from his past.

By the time Steve had prepared their meal, Bucky had recovered from his emotionally draining experience. The two of them talked comfortably as always as they ate and Bucky felt completely at ease once more.

As they ascended the stairs at bedtime, Steve placed a caring hand against Bucky’s back. It was a simple touch but Bucky felt that it held so much promise.

When they finally lay side-by-side in bed, Steve turned his body so that he was facing Bucky. “How are you feeling now?” he asked quietly.

Bucky smiled contentedly and sighed. “Like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. I’m sure that sounds so melodramatic, right? But I really feel like I can move on with my life now.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He was silent for a while before asking, “How do you want to move on with your life?”

Without saying anything more, Bucky moved closer towards him and pressed his lips against Steve’s. This time, Steve wasn’t caught unprepared; he had hoped that Bucky would kiss him again and he was hoping that this time Bucky wouldn’t pull away. Without breaking their kiss, Bucky pushed himself onto his elbow so that he could lean over Steve. His free hand rested against Steve’s chest and he began to move his index finger across the skin in patterns. Steve let out a soft chuckle at the sensation and Bucky pulled back, looking at him curiously.

“What’s so funny?” he asked suspiciously.

Steve reached his hand up to place it over Bucky’s where it was now still against his chest.

“You always do this thing with your finger. It’s like you’re tracing some imaginary pattern. You used to do it in the diner when we met there, now you do it on me.”

Bucky looked a little puzzled by what Steve had told him. He clearly had no idea that he was doing it. “Sorry, I’ll stop doing it then.”

He moved to pull his hand away but Steve held it in place, “I didn’t say I wanted you to stop. I like it. I find it…endearing.”

Bucky tried to look like he wasn’t impressed by Steve’s comment but he couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at his lips. He was about to complain that he wasn’t ‘endearing’ when Steve moved his hands. One of them rested against his back and the other slipped around the back of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Bucky smiled into the kiss, understanding that now wasn’t the time for their playful banter. Without even noticing he was doing it, his finger began its movement across Steve’s chest again.

Steve’s fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair as their kiss deepened. Eventually, Bucky pulled back slightly and turned his attention to kissing and sucking along Steve’s jaw-line and down to the tender skin of his throat. Steve moaned at the sensation and Bucky smiled as he continued to work his way towards Steve’s collarbone. Steve moved his hands along Bucky’s sides, caressing his skin, smiling as he felt Bucky’s muscles flutter beneath his touch.

Suddenly, Steve grabbed Bucky’s arms and pushed him over onto his back. He hovered above him for a moment before leaning down to capture Bucky’s lips yet again.

As Steve pulled away from the kiss, leaving them both breathing heavily, he heard Bucky whisper, “Touch me, Steve.”

Steve drew in a deep breath and leant down close to Bucky, murmuring in his ear, “Where?”

Bucky shivered slightly at the warm breath that tickled his ear. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

Steve didn’t need any further guidance as he began to explore Bucky’s body. Hands, tongue and teeth roamed across smooth flesh learning every detail, storing every action that caused Bucky to moan and shudder in his memory.

He worked his way down Bucky’s chest, then paused as he reached the line of dark hair that led down to Bucky’s boxers. He glanced up at Bucky, smiling at the way his eyes were sparkling with anticipation. He hooked his thumbs onto the waistband of the underwear and, when Bucky raised his hips slightly, he pulled them down his legs. He discarded the boxers and then ran his hands up Bucky’s legs, tracing patterns teasingly against his inner thighs.

Bucky looked like he might explode at any moment so Steve decided that he couldn’t tease him any more. He moved up slightly and leant down to lick Bucky’s hard cock with short flicks of his tongue. The action caused Bucky to groan loudly and his hands reached down to run his fingers through Steve’s hair. Bucky’s moans of pleasure became longer and deeper as Steve slid his mouth around the smooth head of his cock.

It wasn’t long before the rhythm of Steve’s mouth moving around his cock caused Bucky to become a writhing, moaning mess on the bed. Steve would have been quite content to continue, loving the sound of Bucky’s moans and the sight of Bucky pressing his head back against his pillow, but Bucky reached his hand down and gently lifted Steve’s head away. He pulled him into a breathless kiss as Steve fumbled in the drawer of his bedside table trying to find his bottle of lube. Eventually, his fingers closed around it and he placed it on the bed beside them.

It was Bucky’s turn to change their positions. He held Steve’s arms tightly and pushed him over onto his back, before kissing him intensely again. Bucky finally relinquished his hold on Steve, instead picking up the little bottle of lube. He took Steve’s hand in his and squeezed the liquid out, before smearing it across Steve’s fingers with his own hand.

Steve watched him carefully, his eyes flicking between watching Bucky’s face and watching the way his fingers spread the lube teasingly across his own fingers.

“You sure about this?” Steve asked when Bucky’s eyes met his again. “I don’t wanna rush into anything if you want to take it slow.”

Bucky kissed him firmly, breathing deeply through his nose as he twisted his clean hand into Steve’s hair.

“I want you so much, I can hardly think straight,” he said as he pulled back a little. “We’ve already been taking it slow…I don’t wanna wait anymore. I want to feel you inside me, Steve. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

Steve surged up to press his lips against Bucky’s again after his words. “I want you too,” he murmured against his lips. “I want you so much.”

Bucky smiled and then began to glide his fingers over Steve’s erection. As he continued to move his hand he increased the pressure, squeezing more tightly, every so often running his thumb across the slit at the tip of Steve’s sensitive cock.

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation and Bucky shuddered at the low groan that erupted from his chest.

Steve moved his hand to the smooth skin of Bucky’s ass, stroking him gently, before moving his fingers teasingly around Bucky’s hole. Slowly, he pushed one slick finger into Bucky and kept pressing forward until Bucky moaned beautifully at the sensation. Steve kept moving his finger in and out steadily a few times before pushing in with a second. He twisted and curled his fingers until Bucky was panting and a red flush had spread across his chest.

Bucky leant forward and captured Steve’s lips in a desperate kiss as Steve continued to move his fingers. He moved his mouth to Steve’s throat where he sucked at the skin hungrily. Suddenly wrenching his mouth away from the contact, his lips fell open in a silent cry as Steve pushed a third finger inside and grazed his prostate with every twitch.

Finally, when Bucky was grinding down on Steve’s fingers and muttering curses, Steve pulled his hand away. He reached towards the night-stand again and grabbed a condom. They fumbled about between them, slick fingers not helping, but finally managed to roll it onto Steve. Squeezing more lube onto his hand, Bucky gave Steve’s erection a few firm strokes to coat the condom before he began to lower himself towards Steve’s waiting cock. His eyes locked with Steve’s and he held the gaze as he grabbed Steve’s erection with one hand to guide it towards his hole.

Steve’s mouth fell open in a gasp of pure pleasure as he felt his cock slowly being surrounded by the tight warmth of Bucky’s body. Still they held eye contact as Bucky gradually lowered himself all the way down until Steve was filling him completely. For a long moment neither of them moved, as much as Steve was desperate to.

“Alright?” Steve asked quietly as he looked up at Bucky’s flushed face.

“Just need a second,” Bucky rasped out.

Gently, Bucky placed his hand against Steve’s stomach and began to tickle a slow pattern against his skin. Steve hummed in pleasure at the feeling and then Bucky smiled seductively before beginning to move his hips in slow circles, eventually finding a rhythm and riding Steve’s cock.

Steve’s large hands rested against Bucky’s hips encouraging his movements as he thrust upwards into the exhilarating heat and pressure of his lover’s body. As Bucky moved down, Steve moved his hips upwards sharply, and suddenly Bucky moaned loudly causing Steve to move a step closer to his climax.

“Is that good?” Steve asked, slightly breathlessly.

“ _Fuck_ …” Bucky moaned again. “Fuck, yes.”

Steve repeated his action, planting his feet firmly against the mattress, longing to hear Bucky make that sound again. He wrapped his hand around Bucky’s erection and began to stroke it in time with his thrusts.

Bucky’s breathing became ragged and moans and curses began to fall from his lips as they moved together. They both became lost in the feeling, desperately chasing their release but never wanting the moment to end.  

Steve could feel the pressure building up inside of him, his orgasm preparing to erupt.

Bucky was breathily panting Steve’s name like a mantra until with a shudder he yelled out a broken cry of “ _Steve_!” The shout ripped from Bucky as he came was nearly enough to push Steve over the edge, but seeing Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head and the look of pure bliss on his face was all that he needed. With a loud moan and a final thrust upwards he came, his cock pulsing inside Bucky as he filled the condom. Panting heavily, he wrapped his arms around Bucky as the other man fell forwards against him.

Bucky kissed the sweaty skin of Steve’s neck gently as he tried to recover his senses. He was still shaking from the rush of his climax as Steve began to stroke his hair gently. He eventually rolled off Steve, onto his side on the bed. He gazed at the other man for a long time and Steve gave him an exhausted smile, before he carefully pulled the condom off and quickly disposed of it before climbing back onto the bed.

For Bucky, the experience had been as close to perfect as he could imagine. This hadn’t been some harsh fuck in a dirty alley or some cheap motel. It had been so different, the complete opposite of everything he was used to. It hadn’t been about Bucky doing all the hard work to ensure his client got off and he got paid. It had been tender and caring. He hardly dared to think of it in such a way, but it had been making love.

Moving slowly, Steve placed a gentle kiss against Bucky’s lips before falling back against his pillow with his head turned to face the other man.

“You alright, Buck?” he asked softly.

Bucky smiled almost shyly back at him. “Better than alright,” he replied, equally quietly.

Eventually, after Steve had brought a washcloth through from the en-suite and they’d both wiped themselves clean, Bucky moved his hand up to rest against Steve’s shoulder in the same way that he had when they had first shared a bed.

Steve watched as Bucky’s eyes fell shut and the rise and fall of his chest became deep and steady. Somehow, seeing Bucky like that seemed to lull him into the most comfortable and calm state possible. Gently, he smoothed a few wayward strands of hair away from Bucky’s forehead.

“Night, Buck,” he whispered.

With Bucky’s hand warming his skin, he fell asleep.  


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to anyone who has read, left kudos, or commented on this fic. It means a lot to me.

There had never been any doubt in Steve’s mind that Bucky would be staying with him permanently and, two months after the attack, Bucky was more than comfortable living with the detective. He hadn’t wanted Steve to think that he was taking advantage of his generosity, so had suggested that he moved back in with Natasha but Steve had immediately dismissed the idea. He made his thoughts perfectly clear – he wanted Bucky to stay. So after two months of living together, they had settled into an unexpected, yet content, lifestyle.

Bucky had obviously given up his life working the streets, but he was looking for a new job. He joked with Steve about whether he could imagine him sitting behind a desk in some office, but in reality he knew he’d be very lucky to get such a position. After all, he had no experience and hadn’t got any ‘appropriate’ jobs to put on his resume, so finding someone to employ him would be extremely difficult. He didn’t want to give up on his quest though. He refused to sit around at home while Steve went out to work and supported him. He had always been able to provide for himself, one way or another, and he wasn’t about to change that.

Steve was trying to help him any way he could and was equally keen for Bucky to find work. He knew that Bucky wasn’t the type to let others pay his way indefinitely and he didn’t want to seem patronising.

In addition to his search for a job, Bucky also had to face the prospect of telling Natasha that he wasn’t going to be moving back in. He had been dreading the thought of it, fearing how his best friend would react, and also feeling incredibly guilty about leaving her. He called round to visit his friend several times each week and each time he promised himself he would pluck up the courage to tell her, but each time he came away with the news still hanging over him like a storm cloud.

It was Natasha who actually raised the subject in her usual straight-to-the-point manner.

“So is it safe for me to assume that you’re not moving back in here again?” she asked one afternoon when Bucky had called in to see her.

Bucky had nearly spat his drink all over his friend upon hearing the question. He looked at Natasha in wide-eyed surprise without knowing quite what to say in response.

Natasha simply tipped her head slightly to the side and raised a knowing eyebrow. “Oh, come on, James. You don’t think I hadn’t worked it out for myself? It’s pretty damn obvious. And the fact that you’ve been all antsy like you’re about to burst every time you’ve been over here kind of gave me an extra clue. I knew you had something big to tell me. I put two and two together. I know you too well.”

Bucky cleared his throat and looked at his friend slightly nervously, “Are you angry? I mean, I get it if you’re pissed at me for moving out.”

Natasha chuckled, “James, you’re my best friend but it’s not my decision to make. I can’t force you to stay here. I’ve enjoyed having you here with me and I hate to admit it, but I’ll miss you. But I also know that there’s no way that I can stand in the way of your feelings for Steve. I’ve tried enough times to talk you out of it and warn you off and you’ve proven that you’re way too stubborn for that. You’ve got it bad and I guess I have to accept that.”

“Steve really is a great guy,” Bucky said quietly.

Natasha hummed softly in response. “I have to trust your judgement on that. I hope you’re right, I’m sure you are. He makes you happy, so I guess that’s the most important thing. Just remember, that I’m always here if you need me. Don’t be a stranger.”

Bucky shook his head immediately. “Of course I won’t. I’ll come to visit you all the time. You’ll always be my best friend whatever else happens in my life,” he paused for a moment before asking, “What are you going to do now?”

Natasha smiled brightly. “Well I’m going to have to find a new room-mate. I might start auditioning people.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but then looked at his friend seriously, “You could quit like me. Try to find a new job.”

Natasha laughed at the suggestion and shook her head, “Oh, you’ve gone soft, James! It’s too late for me. I’ve been in this game for far too long to get out now. And I know what you’re thinking, ‘ _I managed to get out’_. Well I’m afraid there’s no cop in a shining car coming to save me.”

Bucky looked sad at Natasha’s words, but his friend was still smiling brightly.

“Who says I want to get out anyway?” she asked. “I know what I’m doing with this life. I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I do though,” Bucky mumbled.

Natasha slapped him on the arm playfully, “I know. You can check up on me regularly and I know where you are if I need you. I don’t want you ruining your little love-nest by fretting about me.”

Laughing at Natasha’s comments, Bucky knew that he had to accept things as they were. He had been incredibly lucky in meeting Steve and as much as he might wish that something equally wonderful would come along for his best friend he knew that it wasn’t very likely. He knew that life rarely went according to plan; he knew that his own life was the perfect example of that.

***

After several weeks of living together, Steve was still as busy as ever with his work: Bucky was used to it. He knew how committed Steve was to his cases and he didn’t think anything of it when Steve worked long hours or brought work home with him. The hunt for the attacker hadn’t been successful, but the number of assaults had actually fallen in the last few weeks. Steve wanted to think that it was because of the police enquiry, or that the attacker had left the area, but both he and Bucky knew that it was more likely the result of the prostitutes becoming much more careful. They hardly ever went out to work on their own anymore and some of them had reluctantly stopped working altogether for a while.

That didn’t mean that Steve’s workload had decreased. He was still determined to find the attacker, but pressure from his superior officers meant that his main focus had shifted back to the drugs case that had initially introduced him to Bucky. The case had moved on a long way in a few weeks and, before long, Steve was preparing for a raid on the drug dealers.

Bucky was beside himself with worry about the operation. He knew how violent the men involved were and he had heard terrible stories about guns and weapons. His fears weren’t helped when Steve, who was actually trying to reassure him, told him that he’d be wearing a bullet-proof vest for protection.

Bucky could hardly stand the thought of Steve being shot at. He had never really stopped to think about the dangers involved in Steve’s job but now he found himself being smacked in the face by them. He very nearly asked Steve not to go on the raid, but he knew that that wasn’t fair. As much as it was dangerous, it was Steve’s job and he loved what he did. Bucky wouldn’t stand in his way.

When Steve left for the station that evening, he kissed Bucky softly on the lips and stroked his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. Bucky pulled him close, squeezing him tightly, trying to pour everything he felt into the action. He hoped that Steve understood.

Steve pushed him back gently and Bucky gave him a watery smile before letting him go. He stood in the doorway of the house and watched him drive away. He didn’t close the door until Steve was completely lost from sight.

***

Bucky hardly sat down all night. He paced around the house incessantly, only stopping to make himself cups of coffee. He tried to keep himself occupied by turning on the television or cleaning up, but it didn’t help. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Steve might be doing and how the raid was going.

By the early hours of the morning, Bucky was frantic with worry. He was sure that Steve should have been home and his thoughts were running away with him. When he finally heard the front door open, he ran through the living room and into the hallway immediately. He stared at Steve like he’d not seen him in months, before throwing himself at him.

Steve was taken aback by Bucky’s greeting, but he had to admit that it was much better than coming home to a silent house.

Bucky was so wired after his evening of panic that, even though Steve was exhausted, they still went to bed and had rather frenzied sex. As they lay together trying to catch their breath afterwards, Bucky began his usual finger movements across Steve’s chest. He felt Steve’s arm tighten around him and knew that the other man enjoyed the sensation.

Lying there, he felt the stress from the evening drain away. All terrible thoughts of losing Steve were stripped from his mind.

“I love you,” he whispered against Steve’s chest.

He had known that he loved Steve for a while, but he hadn’t found the courage to say the words before now. But now he knew that he had to. The thought of not being with Steve was too awful to imagine and he couldn’t think of any reason why he shouldn’t tell him how he felt.

He felt Steve shift beneath him until his head was resting against his pillow. Steve leant over him and, even in the dark room, Bucky could see that he was smiling. He moved his head down to capture Bucky’s lips in a soft kiss.

“And I love you,” he whispered against his lips.

Bucky’s heart leapt at the words and he leant up to kiss Steve gently again. Steve breathed deeply in contentment before falling back against his own pillow.

For once, Steve fell asleep first, leaving Bucky lying awake watching him. He watched the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest and realised how much he loved each of those simple movements. It seemed strange to think that not that long ago he had never even met Steve and now he couldn’t imagine his life without the man lying beside him.

It took a long time for Bucky to fall asleep; not because he was worried, just because he could hardly bear to tear his eyes away from the peaceful sleeping face that made his life complete.

***

A few weeks after the raid, Steve returned home clutching a small white envelope with his name printed across the front. He presented it to Bucky when he found him in the kitchen and asked him to open it.

Bucky eyed the little envelope suspiciously before sliding a piece of thick paper from inside. He scanned the message on the paper quickly before he looked up at Steve in curiosity, feeling a rather nervous sensation tickling at the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to show any sign of his panic yet. He swallowed thickly.

“So you’ll be going to this ball then?” he asked, waving the piece of paper around casually.

Steve smiled brightly. “I go every year. It’s kind of expected that we’ll attend. We have to have a pretty good excuse for not going. And it’s all for a good cause anyway.”

Bucky looked at the invitation again. The ball was a charity event to raise money for the families of officers who had lost their lives, or been injured, in the line of duty. A shudder of horror at the thought of that prospect passed through Bucky. He raised his eyes from the invitation to look at Steve again. The detective was still smiling at him. Bucky might have laughed at how goofy he looked just standing there grinning, but he had a suspicion that there was more to Steve’s smile than he was letting on.

“For the last few years, I’ve just gone on my own and tagged along with Sam and Laura, but I was thinking that this year I might not have to go on my own,” Steve said as he took a step towards Bucky. Still he smiled, but now it had become more of a persuasive type of smile and Bucky took a step back and held out the invitation like it was a bomb.

Bucky began to shake his head.

“Oh no. I really don’t think that it’s a good idea. I can’t just turn up to some ball that’s full of police officers. Someone will recognise me! It’s a bad idea; you should just go on your own. I don’t mind staying here for the night by myself.”

Steve frowned. “No-one will recognise you. You’ll look completely different once you’re in a tux and besides you have nothing to worry about anymore; it’s not like you still work on the streets.”

“I really think it’s a bad idea. You don’t want me there getting in your way when you’re trying to have a night out with your colleagues,” Bucky scrambled for reasons why he shouldn’t go. In truth, the thought of being in a room surrounded by police officers was a terrifying prospect. He knew that he didn’t have anything to worry about anymore, he wasn’t a hooker now, he couldn’t get arrested for anything, but he was still scared that someone would recognise him. He didn’t want to put Steve in a difficult situation.

Without realising it, Bucky had been backing away from Steve slowly and now he found himself with his back pressed against the kitchen counter.

Steve had been closing in on him steadily and the smile that had become a frown was beginning to creep back onto his face. He stopped when he was right in front of Bucky and pressed his body against him. He held one of Bucky’s hands as he spoke.

“It would mean so much to me if you came with me.”

He leant down and pressed his lips against Bucky’s neck and began kissing and sucking at the tender flesh of his throat.

Bucky tried to hold back the moan that threatened to fall from his lips.

This wasn’t fair: how was he supposed to think of excuses with Steve doing that? “But…I won’t know anyone. You’ll have to sit with me all night so I’m not left on my own.”

Ceasing his actions, Steve breathed his response against Bucky’s neck. His breath tickled against the wet skin on his throat causing Bucky to shudder.

“We’ll sit with Sam and Laura. You get on well with them; you can talk to them.” Before Bucky could reply, Steve had immediately reattached his lips to his neck and he began rubbing his palm against the bulge in Bucky’s jeans.

Bucky couldn’t argue with Steve’s comment, he _did_ get on well with Sam and Laura. Steve had invited the couple round for dinner one evening to introduce them to his ‘boyfriend’ properly. Bucky had been a nervous wreck before the meal but by the end of it he was laughing comfortably with their guests. Actually, Steve found it a little concerning just how well Bucky and Sam got along. The last thing he needed was his partner and his boyfriend ganging up on him to wind him up. The dinner invitation had been returned and the four of them had spent several evenings together since.

Bucky finally allowed a groan to pass his lips. It was partly a moan of pleasure and partly a sign that he knew that he had lost the battle against Steve’s persistent persuasion.

“This really isn’t fair, you know,” he panted as Steve continued his actions. “How am I supposed to put up any sort of fight when you have such wonderful methods of persuading me?”

Steve finally raised his head and looked him in the eyes. “Does that mean you’ll go with me?” he asked hopefully.

Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly but his expression was playful. He looked like he was giving the question serious thought. “Yes, I suppose it does,” he finally replied, with an exaggerated sigh.

Steve beamed at him before kissing him passionately. One hand reached behind Bucky and squeezed his ass while the other began to undo his pants hastily.

Bucky grinned against Steve’s mouth as he continued to kiss him; at least he would get a special ‘thank you’ for agreeing to attend the ball.         

***

The evening of the ball arrived suddenly and as Bucky looked himself up and down in the full-length mirror in the bedroom he began to wonder whether he had been an idiot to allow himself to be so easily persuaded. Steve was already downstairs, leaving Bucky to finish getting ready. He stood looking at his reflection and even though he thought he looked the smartest he ever had, he still questioned whether he was going to fit in. He was convinced that he would walk into the room and everyone would turn around and see a hooker standing there. ‘ _Ex-_ hooker’ he reminded himself forcefully.

After a final long look in the mirror, he made his way down the stairs and into the living room.

Steve appeared in the doorway from the kitchen upon hearing him and stood there smiling warmly.

“You look amazing,” he said as he walked forward and kissed Bucky on the lips.

Bucky fiddled with the collar of his shirt, “Are you sure I look alright? Will I do?”

“Buck, you look gorgeous. In fact, I wonder if we have time for…”

Bucky held up his hand and interrupted before Steve could finish his wondering out loud. “Don’t even _suggest_ it. We don’t have time and it took me far too long to do my hair for you to mess it up again.”

Steve pouted playfully at Bucky’s sternness. “Can I mess it up when we get home then?”

“I’ll be so relieved to get through this, that by the time we get home you can do whatever the hell you want,” Bucky replied.

Steve tilted his head to the side and took Bucky’s hand in his own.

“You’ll be fine tonight. Just relax and enjoy yourself. I’m _proud_ to be taking you with me.”

Bucky actually smiled for the first time that evening when he heard Steve’s words. “You always know the right thing to say,” he said before he kissed Steve again.

Steve squeezed his hand and gave him a dopey grin before he led him out to the car to leave for the ball.

***

Surprising even himself, Bucky was actually enjoying himself. When they had first arrived at the ball, he had sat down with Steve immediately at their table and stared around the room. He wanted to see if he recognised any of the officers before they recognised him. He was quite pleased to find that none of them stood out in his mind as seeming familiar and he felt more relaxed straight away.

Shortly after they had arrived, Sam and Laura appeared and sat with them and Bucky felt even more comfortable.

A few of Steve’s colleagues came over and Steve introduced him to each one. All of them shook Bucky’s hand and made polite conversation with him. None of them stared at him with that look of recognition that he had been dreading. Some of them remarked how nice it was to see that Steve had finally brought someone along to one of their social events and Bucky found himself suddenly feeling deeply honoured to be the guest that he had decided to bring. Bucky could hardly believe how tense he had felt about attending the ball, but as he sat chatting away with Steve and his friends he felt completely at ease.

It was several hours into the ball when Bucky made his excuses to go outside to get some fresh air. With Steve at the bar ordering drinks, Bucky assured Sam and Laura that he’d be fine by himself and slipped away. At the start of the evening Bucky wouldn’t have dared stray from Steve’s side but, as the evening had progressed, he had realised that he was just another guest at the party.

Walking out of one of the side doors of the building which he had seen other people going in and out of all evening, he found himself in a large, peaceful garden which was a dramatic change from the hubbub inside the party. There was a couple walking around the garden, but they were quite a distance from him, so Bucky decided to walk around himself to enjoy the calm atmosphere.

As he sauntered around, he lost himself in his thoughts until he realised that he should head back inside before Steve thought that he had tried to escape. Looking up at the sky, he drew in a deep breath.

“If I’d known that you offered an escort service I might have brought you along myself,” a sarcastic voice drawled from behind him.

Bucky whipped around immediately to locate the owner of the voice. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he saw the man standing behind him.

The man was the same person that had plagued his nightmares after his attack. Even though the man looked completely different this evening, dressed in a tuxedo like all of the other men at the ball, Bucky could never have mistaken his face. It was the man that had attacked him months ago.

Bucky actually took a step backwards as he continued to stare in disbelief at the person standing before him.

The man was smirking at Bucky cruelly; he was obviously enjoying the panic and shock that he had caused.

“You’re the one that got away,” the man stated simply. “You have no idea how your face has tortured me. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you. I looked for you, you know – after our first encounter. I spent quite a while trying to find you so that we could deal with our unfinished business.” He was speaking so calmly, so easily – like this was a normal conversation to be having.

The hairs on the back of Bucky’s neck rose as he listened to the man speak and a shudder passed through him like someone had poured cold water down his spine. He wanted to get back inside, get away from this psycho and, most of all, he wanted to find Steve, but he had wandered quite a long way from the building and the thought of running with this creep chasing him turned his legs to jelly. He managed to tear his eyes away from the man for a moment to look around wildly for some sort of escape or help. The couple that had been in the garden earlier were now lost from sight and the music and noise from inside the ball were droning dully in the background.

The man looked amazingly at ease as he continued to stare at Bucky lasciviously. “Now, I assume that Rogers knows that he’s brought a hooker to the party,” he said casually. “No wonder I couldn’t find you again; he’s been keeping you as his special pet, hasn’t he? I never thought he’d have it in him.”

If it was possible, Bucky felt even more disturbed. This man knew who Steve was. The sickening thought that this man actually _worked_ with Steve felt like a slap to the face. Bucky had to get away. His eyes darted towards the door to the building before he took a few steps to try to get around the man standing in front of him.

The man moved quickly and blocked his path.

“No. Not this time. I’m going to get what I’ve been waiting for,” he said harshly.

Bucky shook his head and tried to move the other way but the man blocked him again.

“I’ll…” Bucky began, but he had no idea how he was going to finish the sentence.

“You’ll _what_?” the man laughed harshly. “I don’t think you have any pepper spray hiding in your pockets tonight. What are you going to do? Try to run in there and get someone to help you? I don’t think so. I don’t suppose Rogers wants you causing a scene and for everyone to find out that his guest is a whore.”

Bucky flinched at the word. But he wasn’t going to stand there and let this man intimidate him and talk to him like he was shit. And he wasn’t going to let him belittle his relationship with Steve either.

He moved forward again, even more determined now to get away. He felt fingers grip his arm and pull him backwards sharply and, as he turned around, he saw that the man looked completely enraged. The calm façade was gone, replaced by an expression of pure fury.

“Don’t think you can walk away from me, you fucking slut. I’ve waited too long for this and you aren’t going to get away from me this time,” he snarled.

Bucky tried to wrench his arm from the man’s grip, but he couldn’t manage to shake him off. “You can’t think that you’ll get away with this. Someone will see you. There’s a building full of police officers right there,” he said desperately.

The man laughed manically. “You’re right. But who’s going to believe _you_?” he pulled Bucky closer as he spoke. His voice lowered to a gravelly whisper and his warm breath rushed across Bucky’s face as he spoke. “Who would believe a filthy whore over a police officer?”

The words were like a physical blow to Bucky. He felt his will to fight and get away begin to crumble. He wasn’t a prostitute anymore but he _had_ been. He didn’t stand a chance. Maybe he had been fooling himself that he could move on and be happy with Steve. Maybe his past was always going to haunt him. Maybe he just had to accept the way things were.  

In the next moment, Bucky found himself released. The death grip around his arm was removed, he had room to breath again, and the man was standing a few steps away from him looking completely casual like nothing had happened. At first Bucky didn’t understand, but then he looked beyond the man and saw Steve walking through the garden towards them smiling brightly.

The man turned towards Bucky and narrowed his eyes. The scowl on his face seemed to hold the promise that this wasn’t over, before he turned to begin walking back towards the building.

“Rumlow,” Steve nodded with a smile as his colleague approached him.

“Rogers,” the man reflected the gesture. “I was just having a chat with your friend; sorry for keeping him so long.”

Steve smiled and waved the apology away, “No worries.”

The other officer didn’t look back as he continued on his way back towards the ball.

Bucky stared after him in shock. How could he change so suddenly from being a psychotic attacker to a friendly police officer?

“I was wondering where you’d got to,” Steve said as he walked up to Bucky. He reached out and placed his hand gently on Bucky’s arm but Bucky jerked away from the touch. Steve’s face showed his shock at the reaction, then immediately revealed his concern. “Is everything alright, Buck?” he asked, already knowing that something was obviously very wrong.

“I want to go,” Bucky replied quietly.

“I thought you were enjoying yourself,” Steve said in confusion, “What’s wrong?”

Bucky turned his eyes towards him and Steve was stunned by the coldest stare he’d ever received from the other man. “Nothing’s wrong. I need to go. If you don’t want to take me, I’ll get a cab.”

For a moment, Steve didn’t respond. It was only when Bucky walked around him that he was motivated into action. “Of course I’ll take you,” he said, still completely confused and feeling hurt by Bucky’s attitude, but not willing to let him leave on his own.

The car journey from the ball to Steve’s house was torturous. Steve repeatedly tried to get Bucky to speak to him, but he received one word answers or silence in response. When they entered the house, Bucky flew up the stairs leaving Steve staring after him, racking his brain trying to think what might be wrong. He couldn’t think what he had done that had caused Bucky to be so cold towards him. He sighed heavily before following Bucky up the stairs.

When Steve walked into their bedroom, he was stunned to see Bucky pulling his clothes out of the wardrobe and throwing them into his open bag on their bed.

“What the _hell_ is going on?” Steve asked. It had come out a little louder than he planned, but he was completely panicked at seeing Bucky’s actions.

Bucky didn’t respond, he just continued throwing his clothes across the room.

Steve watched for a few more moments before deciding enough was enough. He strode across the room, grabbed Bucky by the biceps and spun him round to face him.

“What is going on, Bucky?” he repeated, trying to stay calm.

Bucky struggled against him. “Get off me!” he shouted as he tried to push Steve away. “Let me go! I need to get out of here. You’re all the fucking same!”

Steve had no idea what Bucky was talking about, but he wasn’t about to let Bucky just disappear from his life which was clearly what he had in mind.

“Bucky, please listen to me. _Please_. I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s wrong, but if you tell me I’ll help you.”

“You _can’t_ fucking help me,” Bucky was still shouting. “I’ve been so stupid. I’ve been so stupid to think that I could be happy, that I _deserved_ to be happy. I’ll always be a stupid, dirty, fucking _whore_.” On the last word, Bucky’s voice cracked a little and he hung his head in shame.

Steve was still holding onto Bucky’s upper arms as he listened to him put himself down. He felt his own heart aching at Bucky’s scathing words.

“You are not any of those things, Buck,” he said forcefully. “You are amazing. Look at me,” he commanded, but Bucky didn’t lift his head. “Look at me,” Steve repeated and, slowly, blue-grey eyes rose to look at him. “You are _amazing_ ,” he said again, “You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more. I never want to hear you speak about yourself like that again, because none of it is true and it breaks my heart. I love you, do you understand that? I _love_ you.”

Steve hadn’t seen Bucky look so vulnerable and broken since he was attacked, but somehow his words seemed to make Bucky raise his head a little more. He threw himself against Steve’s chest and squeezed him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against his shoulder. “I love you too. Whatever else I do, please don’t forget that I love you. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Steve stroked his hair and closed his eyes in relief. For a few awful moments, he had thought that he might lose Bucky and it was almost too painful to bear.

They remained standing there in their bedroom for a long time before Steve gently pushed Bucky away and held him at arm’s length. He looked steadily into his eyes for a few moments before saying, “What happened tonight, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes dropped to the floor momentarily again as he sucked in a deep breath. It seemed to Steve that he was preparing himself for having to tell him something awful and he braced himself for what Bucky was about to say.

Bucky looked up at him and Steve was sure he’d never seen him look so serious or nervous.

“That man that was talking to me when I went outside tonight…” Steve nodded that he knew who Bucky was referring to. “He was the one…he was the one that attacked me.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose in shock. “ _Rumlow_?” he asked in bewilderment. “But he’s a _cop_.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Bucky immediately pulled away from Steve and stepped backwards.

“You think I don’t _know_ that!” he shouted desperately. “You think I wasn’t completely freaked out when he came up to me tonight and I realised who he was? I knew this would happen. _He_ knew this would happen. He said it. He said it out there tonight. He said that no-one would believe a filthy whore like me over an officer like him and he was right. Even _you_ don’t believe me!”

“Whoa!” Steve was immediately trying to calm Bucky down, “I never said that I didn’t believe you, Bucky. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. You can’t just tell me something like that and expect me to say ‘okay then’. This is _huge_.”

Bucky was breathing deeply as he looked at Steve, waiting for him to continue.

“You’d better start at the beginning of what happened when you went outside tonight,” Steve said and, for the first time in a long time, Bucky saw him as a detective.

Bucky recounted his conversation with his attacker as clearly as he could and then waited silently for Steve’s reaction.

Steve was very still and quiet for a while as he soaked up the information.

“That son of a bitch,” he eventually ground out. “That psycho has been doing this right under our noses all this time.”

Bucky remained very quiet. Steve was clearly furious, the angriest that Bucky had ever seen him, and he didn’t want to say anything that might make it worse. He fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt agitatedly. A hand came to rest against his cheek gently and he looked up to see Steve watching him thoughtfully.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through this tonight, Buck,” Steve said softly.

Bucky didn’t know how to reply so he stayed quiet. He just forced a watery smile onto his face.

Steve sighed deeply. “You know that we can’t let him get away with this, right?”

Bucky nodded slowly, he was sure he knew what was coming next.

“Will you come with me tomorrow to speak to my chief? You need to tell him everything.”

Bucky looked at him steadily, “If I tell him everything, that means telling him about us.”

Steve nodded, “I know. But I don’t care about that. He has to pay for what he’s done. Besides, I’ve already told you, I’m proud to be with you.”

Bucky smiled slightly again and nodded his agreement.

Taking his hand and squeezing it gently, Steve tried to reassure him that it would be alright. He had no idea how things would go tomorrow, but as long as they were together they would be fine.

***

The following day, Bucky found himself sitting in Steve’s office alone.

Steve had practically smuggled him into the station fearing that Bucky’s attacker would see them and realise what was happening. Steve had kissed him on the cheek and left him there while he had gone to speak to his senior officer. Anyone walking into the office would have been able to tell that Bucky was a nervous wreck; his knee was bobbing up and down repeatedly and he couldn’t stop fiddling. Every time he heard someone walk past the office, he spun around in his chair, hoping it was Steve, but each time he was left feeling more and more worried.

Eventually, the office door opened and Steve quickly walked in. Immediately, Bucky was desperately trying to interpret how the meeting had gone.

“The Chief wants to speak to you in his office, on your own,” Steve said simply.

“What did you tell him?” Bucky asked as he stood up from his seat.

“Just the basic outline of what’s happened. He wants to speak to you individually to get the full details. This is serious, Buck. We’re accusing an officer of assaulting you, and as a result he’ll probably be charged with the attacks on all the other prostitutes, you have to be clear about what happened.”  

Bucky nodded sombrely. He _was_ clear about what happened; he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget it.

Steve had escorted Bucky to Chief Fury’s office and then taken a seat outside. He wanted to be close-by in case he was needed.

It was nearly an hour before a rather drained looking Bucky opened the door and stepped out of the office. He sat down beside Steve and closed his eyes for a moment. Going over what had happened in such detail had been hard work. When he opened his eyes, Steve was looking at him fondly.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, as he rubbed Bucky’s knee.

Bucky nodded, “Glad that’s over with. Your boss sure knows how to ask questions.”

Steve smiled slightly but didn’t have time to say anything else as he heard Fury calling for him to go into the office. He took a deep breath and left Bucky sitting alone again.

It wasn’t long before Steve reappeared and led Bucky back to his own office.

“Well, what’s going on?” Bucky asked anxiously.

“I couldn’t tell you in the corridor,” Steve said as he closed the door behind them. “Fury has sent officers to arrest Rumlow. They’re charging him with assaulting you and then hopefully once the evidence has been gathered together they want to get him for all the attacks. It should only take a DNA test to match him to all the victims,” Steve told him brightly.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at Steve’s victorious expression. It seemed a little odd to him that someone could be quite so pleased to be announcing that they had arrested someone, but he understood Steve’s passion for his work. He knew how much solving this case meant to him.

“You did it,” Steve told him. “You were brave enough to stand up for yourself and do the right thing. You’ve stopped one of the most prolific rapists we’ve had in this city for years. Maybe you should consider becoming a cop,” he joked.

Bucky looked mildly disturbed by the suggestion, but still laughed. Finally hearing such good news seemed to have drained all of his stresses and concerns away.

***

A few months later, Bucky and Steve were still living happily together. Any fears that they might have had about their relationship had been wiped away.

Bucky had worried about the repercussions for Steve’s job once it was revealed that he was living with an ex-prostitute but there was no comeback. In fact, Steve’s superior officers had been so impressed by his recent work on both the drug case and the attacks on the prostitutes that they had offered him a promotion within the SHIELD unit to the rank of Captain.

As for Bucky, he was an _ex_ -prostitute, he had nothing to hide and nothing to feel ashamed about anymore. Once he had feared that he would never be able to escape his past, he feared that it would haunt him forever, but now he used it to make him a stronger, better person.

Bucky was still looking for employment, but while he searched he had taken on some voluntary work that Steve had heard about at the station. He was working for a homeless shelter distributing food and water to people living on the streets. Bucky found it incredibly satisfying to help people that were in the same situation that he had been in himself a few years ago.

When Bucky looked back over his life, he could hardly believe the way it had turned out. From a happy child to a dejected teenager who ended up living on the streets and working as a hooker as an adult, he didn’t think anyone would believe how fortunate he had been.

He often thought about the hand that fate had dealt him. Why had Steve picked him up that first night? How things would have been different if Steve had stopped further along the street. Bucky always dismissed those thoughts from his mind quickly; he didn’t want to imagine his life without Steve. His life certainly hadn’t turned out the way he had expected, but he had to admit that now it was better than he had ever hoped for.      


End file.
